Fallen Embers
by Emmithar
Summary: Sara and Greg find themselves trapped in a nightmare when things go horridly wrong at distant crime scene. SaraGreg
1. Chapter 1

**So I've had this story Idea for a while, floating around in my head. First off thanks goes to Jenny for her help so far on this, and the help I'm sure she'll be giving me along the way. She is my inspiration, and you should check out her profile on FF. She writes wonderful Sandle stories as well. **

you can find her at http/ so begins my next story, first chapter is a little short, hopefully I'll have longer ones as the story progresses.

* * *

**Fallen Embers**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill, I don't own CSI, or any of the characters pertaining to CSI as well.

**Summary: **Sara and Greg find themselves trapped in a nightmare when things go horridly wrong at distant crime scene. Sara/Greg

* * *

**Chapter One: **The Case

There was something about him that put him…out of place. Sure, he was overworked, too many hours, not enough sleep. But that was a common story around here. His hair was ruffled in that organized chaotic sense, wearing for once a reasonable button up shirt, dark jeans….what kind of shoes was he wearing?

Sara leaned back in the chair, trying to peek under the table at his feet as he rambled on continually. She wasn't sure why it bugged her so much, but she needed to know what kind of shoes he was wearing. Certainly she just couldn't ask him…

"Lori Nicklios was our last victim, found ten miles north of Las Vegas about two weeks ago. TOD placed her there for at least seven hours before someone noticed her. Hands above her head, bound at the wrists with barbed wire, dressed in a two piece bathing suit, dark blue in color. Flour on the bottom of both feet, dried butter on the inside of her thighs. May have been used as a lubricant, victim was raped. No semen was found."

"Foreign object maybe?" Warrick suggested, drawing a sip of the warm black liquid.

"Perhaps," Greg nodded, "but what would the use of the butter be then?"

Just a little further…Sara crouched a little, maybe it would help…

"Strange fetish maybe, who can tell with these guys?" Warrick asked, to which Greg nodded in agreement.

A small yelp left her throat as the chair gave way under her, sending her into a sprawling, tumbling fall. She landed on her hands and knees a few feet away from where she started, both men watching her bewildered.

"I'm okay," she said shakily, picking herself up. Her cheeks burned as she wiped the palms of her hands on her pants, a small chuckle leaving her lips. "Just sometimes they put too much wax on these floors…"

"They haven't waxed the floors since last Tuesday," Warrick told her blankly. Greg was laughing quietly, covering his face with one had as Sara righted her chair.

"I knew that…" she whispered, her face still burning. "Where were we?"

"Greg and I were just discussing odd fetishes…"

"Ah, like what kind of shoes you wear…" Sara nodded.

Once again it was the blank stares, and Sara could feel her face flush once more. "I think I'm going to get some coffee…" she stated quietly, pushing herself away from the table.

"We have a fresh batch here," Greg called after her, watching her retreating form. He turned to Warrick, frowning. "Is it just me, or does she seem a little...strange?"

Sara continued on down the hall, hiding her face behind her hair. It was easy to do as long as she kept her head down, of course that also meant she couldn't see where she was going. Mentally she cursed herself. How could she have been so stupid, so ignorant? She wasn't some crazy high school girl falling for some lame…incredibly gorgeous looking creature…

A sigh escaped her lips as she came to a stop, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty. It was, and with a few more steps she entered the locker room. Greg was a friend…a coworker. The goofy lab rat had grown into something marvelous, but had apparently lost his growing crush on her. Or so it seemed.

There were those moments, times when it was just the two of them that Greg would let slip a comment, grinning from ear to ear just waiting for a response. Or a quiet look that meant 'I'm listening, I'm here'. Maybe she was just reading into it too much, but then maybe something was actually there.

It had only been a few weeks since this new feeling had entered her life, and the more she tried to ignore it, the more obvious it became. She wondered back to the last few years, when Greg stilled worked in the DNA lab. It had been obvious that he had a crush on her then…but what about now?

"Are you okay?"

He was standing in the doorway, meandering in slowly, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. Sara smiled, nodding as she worked her locker open. There wasn't anything she really needed in there besides a distraction. "I'm fine…"

His hands wrapped around her neck, pulling her in close as their lips met, a delicious kiss that made everything around them disappear. She no longer cared who was watching, or who might know…

"We have to tell the others sooner or later," Greg whispered in her ear. "I love you Sara…Sara?"

She blinked, the vision melting away before her. Greg still stood near the door, watching her with concern. "Sara?"

There had been no kiss…no flying sparks…no secret relationship. She turned away, flushed, the third time within a minute. Was that even possible?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Greg wondered, "You're kind of worrying me."

"It's okay," she told him with a warm smile. "I just have something on my mind. I'm not really here today."

It was as close to the truth as she was going to get, and she added on a reassuring smile. Greg raised an eyebrow, but was interrupted from any further comments as Grissom came in; waving the small slip of paper that was in his hand.

"You two are incredibly hard to find," Grissom frowned, "Do you ever have your pagers on?"

"Mines dead," Greg offered up, to which Sara informed the two of them hers was right inside her locker.

"Make sure you have them," Grissom reminded them even as he handed off the paper.

"Isn't this a little far from our area?" Greg questioned, studying the case. "East of Klamath Falls…that's like what? Clear up in Oregon?"

"A cop found her, called the body in. When the CSI unit arrived they recognized it as a resemblance to your current case. Hands bound with barbed wire, dark blue swimsuit…"

Greg nodded, waving him off. "Do we get paid mileage for this trip?"

"Just go," Grissom warned, leaving the pair alone.

Sara let out a sigh, leaning against her locker. "I gather this means we're not going home tonight?" Even still she was not against the idea of spending the time with him…not to mention alone.

"That's almost a fourteen hour drive," Greg muttered. "Does he really expect us to do this?"

"Experience has taught me not to argue with your supervisor…no matter how ludicrous an idea sounds…or delicious."

"What?" Greg looked up at her, but Sara was already shaking her head.

"Nothing…so fourteen hours. That means we're going to have to find a place to stay overnight."

"Not at the rate this trip's going to cost me," Greg complained. "Seriously, the lab has to be paying at least some of this. Gas…lodging. Hell, when they sent Catherine and Warrick to Florida they flew them out there."

"Florida is a little farther away than Oregon," Sara pointed out.

"True," Greg gave in with a sigh. "Give an hour to pack for at least two days, then we'll take off from here. Maybe Grissom will change his mind by then."

"Grissom?" Sara wondered, "Change his mind?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything, right?" Greg grinned, the kind of smile that always made you laugh even when you didn't want to.

"Meet you back here in an hour then," she nodded, closing her locker with a little satisfaction, car keys in her hand. She was going on a road trip…with Greg Sanders…and she would be sharing a hotel room with him…two glorious nights…

She smirked to herself as she waltzed down the stairs; maybe things were finally starting to turn in her favor. And nothing could be more beautiful than the early grey lines of a warm, morning sun rising to greet her, and the rest of the city.

**TBC**


	2. On the Road

**Chapter Two: On the Road**

She had only owned two dresses her entire life. Once when she was four, the memory vague, fuzzy, but it was most definitely there. The other was old, but barely used. She had first bought it five years ago when she first came to Vegas. To please none other than Grissom. Was it a sad fact that she had never once worn it around him?

It was too small now, far shorter than she ever remembered it being. Sara frowned, turning to look at herself in the mirror. Had she gained weight? It would be an amazing fact if she did. After becoming a vegetarian her appetite had plummeted, for a short while it seemed as though she hardly ate anything. That was during the low point of her depression.

She tugged on the hem of the dress sighing. Therapy had helped, as much as she hated to admit. Still it scared her, talking to someone who didn't know her, and obviously didn't care about her life problems. They would nod; smile vaguely as the scratched notes down on a pad of paper, every so often making some sort of noise to ensure their clients they were listening.

In conclusion they had told her what she didn't want to hear, but somehow already knew. She looked for validation in the wrong places, had problems with authority, and last but certainly not the least, she searched for men that were emotionally unavailable. It all led back to one source, one person. And that person was Grissom.

Sara flopped down on the bed, dropping the outfit to the floor. Was she really doing anything different with Greg? Sure, she hadn't bluntly asked him out…but the signs were alarmingly clear, she had experienced the same thing when she first decided she loved Grissom. Would it end in the same way? The distance, the awkward silence?

She shook her head. Of course not, there were plenty of things different between Grissom and Greg. She was Greg's mentor, so there would be no problem with authority, seeing that she would have it all. And Greg, unlike Grissom, was not emotionally detached from his feelings. But if she was still seeking approval from Greg…would that be considered inappropriate?

When her cell phone rang she didn't even think twice as she pulled it out to answer. Her heart quickened a beat when Greg's voice came over the line, and for a moment she paused to consider how nice his voice actually sounded. Normally she was too focused on him to really even pay attention…

"I was wondering if you were planning on coming back in," was Greg's rendition of a hello.

"Yeah," Sara muttered, feeling flustered as she sat up, glancing at the clock. It was well past the time they were supposed to meet. Of course, instead of getting ready she had been modeling one outfit after another, trying to decide which ones were the best to wear. She didn't have anything revealing or inviting to wear. Her wardrobe consisted of plain, everyday clothes that were more and less…boring. Maybe she could bribe Catherine into taking her shopping when the opportunity came.

Sad to say the least, Greg was waiting for her, obviously unconcerned about her feminine habits that had all of the sudden come to life. For half a second she considered the fact that Greg would have to wait as long as she wanted, whether he like it or not, but decided not to press her luck. He sounded irritated already, and with a fourteen hour drive ahead…

With a growl she leapt off her bed, gathering a few pieces of clothing that had passed as reasonable. Shoving them into the empty suitcase she finished off with a few necessities any sane person wouldn't be caught without. Even as a little girl she never liked using the soaps and shampoos provided by the hotels, and hardly ever did she use their towels. It was an odd phobia, but the simple thought of other people handling them, strangers she didn't know using the shower, the tub….Sara shivered, quite confident that she had everything now.

One last check, glancing around the room as she made a mental checklist in her head. Having packed in a few spare minutes left her on edge, but she disregarded it as she headed out the door, making sure that everything was locked up tight.

* * *

"Half of it?" Greg wondered, more like pleaded as he quickened his pace to catch him. "Honestly, you're talking about a lot of money to process a crime scene."

Ecklie snorted, even as he straightened the collar of his tux. Apparently he had a press conference soon, and he couldn't leave the public waiting. "If you and Sara want to stay the night there it's your choice. The crime lab isn't going to pay for luxuries."

"It's going to take us all night just to get there," Greg protested, "and some of the next day."

The conversation was obviously going nowhere. Greg's plan to storm in on the man and state his opinion has fallen short the second he stepped into his presence. He had gone to Grissom first, but little that had done. The choice not to finance anything had been made by Ecklie. Apparently the lab was falling short in some areas, and in order to save a few sacrifices had to be made.

Of course, that didn't include Ecklie's prepaid trip to Boston for a forensics meet. Forget the fact the man had little to no interest in science, but on top of that, because of his status all he had to do was board the plane. What he did after that was his choice and the lab was paying it all.

"You're a CSI now," Ecklie turned to him, stopping in the hallway. "You need to take one for the team every now in then."

Greg held his hands up, "Taking one for the team means overtime off the clock, or buying supplies on your own money. Not funding an entire trip to another state."

He had been trying to state his point for the past fifteen minutes now, after growing tired of waiting for Sara. She had told him she would be in soon; Greg had already given up on keeping her to her word.

"There's nothing I can do Sanders," Ecklie told him sternly. "Just let it go."

Greg huffed, coming to a stop as he watched the man leave. It was hard to be on the bottom sometimes…make that most of the time. He rubbed the back of his neck, sauntering down the hallway in the other direction. Sara should be here soon hopefully, they needed to get on the road.

It was unlike Sara to be late, but then again Sara had been a lot unlike herself as of late. She had been jumpy, lost in thought. Dreamy almost; he suppressed a laugh as he came into the break room, smiling as he caught her eye. If Sara ever heard him say that out loud…

"You get on me for being late, and then I can't find you," Sara pointed out, leaning on the table.

"I needed to stretch my boundaries," Greg responded.

She laughed. "How far did you get?"

"I think my perimeter just got smaller. Are you ready?"

She nodded, knowing that her tardiness had already put them an hour behind schedule. As she moved to grab her bag Greg announced vividly that he would be driving, tossing the keys into the air.

She planned to argue with him, but he was already moving down the hall, forcing her to jog to catch up with him. After all, it wasn't too often she did let him drive, what was the worse that could happen?

* * *

"I can't believe you got us lost," Sara grumbled, taking a seat in the far back. Her head hung in her hands as she rubbed her forehead briefly.

"We're not lost," Greg argued sternly, sitting down across from her. "We just don't know exactly where we are. There is a difference. Besides, you're the one who was reading the map."

"And I said turn left. What do you do? You turn right."

He shook his head, "I asked 'turn left here?', and you said right. So I went right."

"I said right as in confirmation that you had to turn left," Sara supported her argument grouchily, her eyes scanning the menu that was placed before her.

"Then I continued to follow your quick and easy directions and we ended up even more lost," Greg griped heavily, looking over his own menu.

"Well with your driving one wouldn't be surprised. I couldn't take my eyes off the road long enough to even glance at the map."

Greg snorted, "Welcome to my world," he muttered quietly, "The way you drive I'd be lucky to even hold a map, let alone try and read it."

"I haven't even driven yet," Sara pointed out, growing quiet as the waiter came to take their order. She rattled off her own order, crossing her arms on the table.

"I'll just have a salad," Greg followed in behind her, handing off his menu. It caused Sara to raise an eyebrow.

"A salad? When was the last time you had just a salad?"

He held his hands up, obviously irritated, "I know the smell of meat bothers you, so I figured I'd survive one meal without it."

She blinked, growing quiet. "You would really do that…just for me?"

He frowned, "You seemed surprised."

Sara smiled, looking away. "It's just really sweet of you that's all…no one ever does anything like that for me."

Greg shrugged it off, pulling the small map from his pocket. "We're not too far off the main road; it'll put us behind about an hour…plus an hour for eating here."

"We don't have stay if you don't want to," Sara interjected quickly. Stopping here had been her idea after all.

Greg shook his head, "Believe me, I want to stay. Never wanted to leave Vegas in the first place."

"Why?"

"It's senseless to drive across the entire state to retrieve information the Oregon lab can just send us. I still need the field experience; I mean, what do they expect me to learn out of this? How to drive?"

She was tempted to answer in affirmation on that last statement, but held back. Instead she tried to be positive, "You'll get some experience out of this. While we're there we can check out their lab, see how things are done, and we still have to rework the original crime scene."

"Sara…it's on the side of a back road next to a forest. What's going to be left?"

"We just do what we're told," she reminded him, picking up her fork as their meals were placed before them. "When you get to be supervisor you can send some poor unfortunate soul off on their own wild goose chase. But right now, we eat, we get back on the road, and complain about it later."

**TBC**


	3. Oregon

**Chapter Three: Oregon**

"They have separate locker rooms," Sara complained as she entered the room.

"And?" Greg raised an eyebrow as he turned to her.

"As in not together…one for the girls, one for the boys."

He grinned, resisting the urge to laugh. They had been here for a whole ten minutes, visitor badges in place as they waited for the lead to catch up with them. The receptionist had been polite enough to inform them that he was responding a call, but would bring him in soon. Meanwhile the rest of the lab was theirs to explore within reason. The staff there seemed fairly nice, easy going.

"Come on Sara, you like seeing us half-naked men shower after a decomp, admit it."

"At first it was nice, but I changed my opinion on that when I accidentally walked in on Hodges."

The laugh was there this time as he turned to her, "You saw Hodges naked?"

She shuddered, shaking her head quickly, "No, thankfully. Still, there are some people that shouldn't wear whitey-tighties around the place…especially if it's a public place."

He was still laughing as he shook his head, his arms crossing as he leaned against the table. "I could get used to this break room. Full sized fridge, several microwaves…means you don't have to wait in line. Even a stove if you want to whip something up really quick."

"Ah," Sara nodded, smiling. "When did you start cooking?"

Greg shrugged, "A little here and there, my grandfather showed me a few recipes when I was younger, I try to keep them in my mind."

"You ever successful with any of them?" she wondered, curious now. He only laughed, causing her to do the same at the obvious answer. The door opened then, ruining any chances of further conversation as a man walked in. He was a bit shorter than the pair, but his smile was warm as he extended a hand.

"The team from LVPD, I'm impressed. Rumor has it you're one of the best out there. Scott Stevenson, I'm the one in charge around here."

Greg and Sara both shook his hand, introducing themselves in the process. He had thin wispy hair that was brown in color, and eyes that matched much of the same. You could tell from his stance that he knew what he was doing, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"It's good to see that you made it okay, it's a long drive," he commented, studying the weary couple. They must have driven it straight through in order to make the time they did. He honestly hadn't expected them until the next day, the very reason prompting him to head out to a new crime scene.

"Well, we wanted to get out to the original crime scene as soon as we could," Sara explained. She had already agreed along with Greg, there would be little to nothing left to find, but at the very least it would give them a visual, and that was better than nothing.

"You actually can't get out there until tomorrow," Scott explained quietly, holding up his hands as she started to protest. "We're short on officers, have been for some time now. That's the earliest we can get someone out to the scene. You weren't scheduled to show up until tomorrow, it's what we had planned."

"You found the body last night…and you want us to wait until tomorrow," Greg wondered curiously. "What about the elements? Animals….people…weather?"

"There's not a lot we can do about the weather," Scott joked lightly, "but we have blocked the area off. No cars will go through that area…it's fairly secluded as well, not very many people are just going to stroll in there."

"The killer did," Sara pointed out, "And not to question your word, but I don't think the animals are going to stop when the see the crime scene tape. You have an abundance of wildlife up here that we generally don't deal with down in Vegas. If we don't go now, they're really won't be anything left."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, smiling grimly. "Rules are rules, I can't get around them. We do have detailed photos of the crime scene and body position, samples collected, and the body's waiting in the morgue. We had our coroner do a prelim, but we figured you would feel more comfortable in driving the body back to your own lab for a full autopsy."

"Yeah," Greg nodded grimly, his face scrunching, "A decomposing body is definitely what we want sitting in the back of our car for fourteen hours."

Sara nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, reprimanding him quietly. However Scott didn't seem offended, laughing at the comment.

"With all the precautions of course. We would have transported the body ourselves, but we were asked to wait to see what you preferred. When one case crosses another it always goes to priority, it doesn't matter whose jurisdiction it is in. Mikayla Jones is our DNA lab tech; she has most of samples ready and waiting for you. We stuck to protocol, took two of everything so that you can run them if you wish. Not sure how things work down there, but we tend to get protective over our cases."

"As long as you're thorough," Sara nodded.

"Always," Scott nodded towards her, glancing down at his watch. "Listen, I really need to run, I have a crime scene waiting," he didn't wait long to explain, only leaving the two.

There was a smile playing on Sara's lips as Greg turned to meet her gaze. "So do we," he whispered, "I don't see what the big deal is. All we would have to do is go out there, do a quick run-through and we'd be done. Honestly, no one would even know we were out there, ten minutes top."

"You just want to get in trouble, don't you? Do you have any idea of what Ecklie would do if he found we didn't follow procedures? Not to mention Grissom. I'm already walking a thin line after my suspension, remember?"

"Yeah," Greg muttered, shaking his head as he followed her down the hall. She had never really told him the real reason of her suspension, other than her losing her cool at Ecklie. Catherine wouldn't breathe a word either, and the man suspected it she had a say in what had happened. The blonde had been avoiding the two of them for weeks now.

The walk to the DNA lab wasn't far; they had passed by it on the way in, but had chosen not to stop by at the time. The lab tech was still busy, several unopened file folders stacked on one another near the end of one counter. Greg smiled slyly as he pushed the door open, waiting till Sara walked through before following.

"Mikayla," Greg nodded towards her, resting his elbows on the table as he flashed her a grin.

She smiled back, eyes flashing down to where his visitor's badge rested on the hem of his pants. "Greg…"

Sara watched, both amazed and surprised at Greg's flirtatious manner. He was openly hitting on a strange women right in front of her…then again there was no rule against it. It wasn't like they were dating or anything…With a sigh she crossed her arms, resting against the wall.

"So…Mikayla…what is that, like European, or…"

I'm American," she cut him quickly, pulling the protective safety glasses off to rest on top of her dark hair. There was a bit of a brown tint to her skin, a dark tan like color, and a warm smile. Even without makeup she looked beautiful, and Sara let out a sad smile. She had little to compare herself too.

"My parents thought it would be unique to give me an outlandish name. I find it annoying, because then everyone sits there and tries to figure out where I'm from."

Greg laughed, "I think it's nice, has a bit of a ring to it."

"We're here to get the samples," Sara interjected quickly, trying to keep her smile level.

Mikayla nodded, turning away with a blush as she pulled the file folder from the drawer behind her. "Already processed, I ran them first thing."

Sara frowned, watching as Greg took the files from her, his hands lingering a second longer than needed as their fingers touched. How could he honestly be that obnoxious right in front of her?

"Raped, but no traces of semen, so no chance of finding a possible suspect. Traces of butter on the thighs, ran it through the GCMS. Victim lost a lot of blood, possible cause of death; all blood did belong to the victim. You'll find the photos in the back."

Sara came to watch from over his shoulder, purposely staying on the opposite side of the lab tech, already feeling a bit of indifference to her. After all, what did the girl have that she did not possess herself? Good looks, charm….intelligence maybe? That last one was a stretch.

"It's not the same," Greg mused quietly, catching Sara's attention. Mikayla, however, was the one to question him first. It did not sit well with Sara.

"What's not the same?"

"The butter," Greg answered simply, "it's a different make then what we found on the first two victims. It was an original mixture…this looks more like a store brand."

"You can run it again if you want," Mikayla offered, waving her hand towards the lab equipment.

Greg shook his head, turning to Sara as he did so. "I'm going to give Grissom a call, see if he can pull anything up on this. We may be looking at a copycat."

Sara nodded, "It would explain why the body's way up here. But how would the killer get such intimate details? Media hasn't gotten a hold of them."

"Outside source maybe," Greg shrugged, nodding towards the door. They walked out side by side, as opposed to how they first entered. Even if they couldn't get out to the scene until tomorrow there was still a lot of work that needed to be done.

**TBC**


	4. Within a Shadow

**Chapter Four: Within a Shadow**

The hotel wasn't bad, not in the least bit; it was actually sort of nice. That in itself was a long shot, seeing that in most cases the only way Sara ended up in a hotel room was to process it. She couldn't even remember the last time she spent the night in one.

Sara made a face as they walked through the double doors, the tile clicking beneath her shoes. They had spent most of the night at the crime lab, running over evidence, photos, and anything else that needed processing. She found herself several different times tracking Greg down, only to find him back in the DNA lab with Mikayla. Of course he announced each time he was only working on the case, but she had her doubts.

It was insanely ridiculous. They weren't married, or even dating. Why did she feel suddenly as though she had to compete for his attention? It had crossed her mind more than once, asking Greg out, for a drink, a bite to eat. A few times she had, but only when he was too far buried in his work to assess the question rationally.

What harm would it do now, if she were to just let the topic slip out? They needed to eat, and drinks weren't too far off that subject either. She brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear as they came to the counter.

All she had was her one small bag, something Greg had hassled her about. He had expected more, seeing that she took so long in getting ready. Sara had fallen back on the excuse that she had fallen asleep after going home, his phone call waking her up. Whether Greg believed that or not she didn't know for certain.

"One hotel room," Greg said with a sigh, pulling out a credit card. He let it drop on the countertop. "Two beds."

"We don't need two beds," Sara spoke up suddenly, coming up next to him. She closed her eyes, cursing herself mentally as she thought over what she had just said. Then again if it ended up with them sharing a bed…she blushed as Greg turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in a dumbfounded expression.

"We're professional right…we can save money. After all the crime lab isn't paying for anything."

Greg blinked, considering the option as he faced the counter once more. "One bed then, I guess," he nodded, handing the card to the Clerk, who let out a smile as he began to enter the information into the computer.

Sara let out a breath, leaning against the counter as she faced the door. She had barely gotten out of that one, but was giddy about the simple fact that she and Greg would be sharing a bed now….one small bed…

"You know what would be neat?" she spoke up quickly, turning to meet his tired gaze. "A suite."

"A suite?" Greg questioned, watching her.

Sara nodded, fingers curling around into fists behind her back as she tried to keep her hands from shaking. "Yeah." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just figured that since we came all the way out here, and since it's only for one night…why not?"

Letting out another sigh he faced the front again, too tired to really argue. "Make that a suite then."

* * *

There was no one around; he had made certain of the fact before crossing over the barricades, moving slowly, his lights turned off. If anyone saw him there wouldn't be much suspicion, after all, a police car at the scene of a crime. No one would think twice.

That was unless another officer caught him out here, but then again the schedule showed no one even near the area for several more hours. He should be in clear. Parking in front of the crime scene tape he turned the vehicle off, sitting for a moment in the darkness, only thinking about what he was going to do.

The sharp ringing split through the darkness, making him jump as he gripped the steering wheel. Once calmed down he let out a curse, fishing for the small device that had fallen in between the seats.

"Mckinely," he spoke softly although there was no one else around to overhear. He already knew who it was, even before the voice started speaking. There was only one person that would be calling him on his own personal cell phone at this hour.

"Are you there?"

Mckinely nodded, answering in affirmation at the same time as he glanced around the desolate area, the voice continuing at the other end. "Make sure it looks real."

"The first one looked real enough," Mckinely snapped back, before gaining composure once again. It wasn't wise to bite the hand that was feeding you. "I know what to do. What about my money?"

"You'll get your money when the job is finished.

"You said I would have the first half by this point, and I haven't seen a dime. I need that money."

"You can quit now and I'll let the police there know who's responsible for that girl's death, or you can follow through and get your money in full. I've been planning this far too long to have you backing out now."

The line went dead before he could say another word. It was probably for the best, because at the moment he was beginning to have his doubts. The girl had been easy to take care of, easy to pose. So now why was he having second thoughts? Did his conscious wait until now to start speaking up?

Still, he was more afraid of what would happen if he didn't cooperate. Getting caught wasn't exactly a fear of his…he needed the money, and the risk was worth taking. But in cases like this he preferred to be the one in charge, making all the calls. Now he was dependent on his cell phone, waiting for instructions from someone that could very well be halfway across the world by now.

With a sigh he stepped out of his car, the night air chilling him as he closed the door. Everything was in the trunk, just waiting for him. He knew full well that by the time the team arrived from Vegas, everything would be gone. With nothing to look at it, it wouldn't give him any time to complete his given task. The warning still hung in his mind, fresh as ever. 'Make it look real'. And he would…he really would.

* * *

"It's not bad," Sara remarked, making her way through the room. "It's kind of nice actually."

"It should be," Greg complained, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "For the price we paid." He kicked off his shoes, flopping back onto the bed, one hand resting above his head. "We should be treated like royalty."

Sara wandered back over, pausing at the foot of the bed to watch him. "You tired?"

Greg nodded vaguely, a yawn adding to his efforts. "Very…"

"What about eating? You haven't had anything all day."

"Mikayla and I took a short break," he explained, resting on top of the covers. One hand rubbed his forehead, as though as he was trying to chase away a headache. "You were looking over the phone records then."

"Oh…" Sara bit her lip, turning away so that Greg wouldn't be able to see the disappointment that ate away at her. So Greg had taken lunch…and hadn't even offered her something. She was, at this point in time, starving, seeing that she had worked straight through instead.

"You're not hungry now then, I'll assume."

Greg let out a groan, opening one eye to watch her. "If you don't want to go alone I'll come, but I won't eat anything."

"It's okay," Sara shook her head. Even though she wanted his company she didn't need it out of pity. Besides, if he was as tired as he said he was, he could use the rest. "There's a vending machine down the hall, I'll check out what they have."

Greg only nodded as she walked by, Sara pausing at the door to glance over her shoulder. He still hadn't moved, though why she expected him to suddenly jump up and follow her out she didn't know.

The halls were empty, but given the time it wasn't surprising. Most people were still sleeping at five in the morning. In most cases, she would be getting ready to go home, or taking a break before starting another shift. She wrapped her arms around her torso as she passed the vending machine, working her way down the stairs quietly.

She didn't like feeling this way, having her feelings being controlled by someone else. She had given her trust to far too many others before, only to have it broken. It all started back when she was a kid, promises being made and constantly broken by her father, and then the foster homes. Sara had figured that once she was out on her own, things would be different.

Then she met Grissom, and her entire world had turned upside down on her. The more she longed to be near him, the further she was pushed away. She had tried to move on, even taking a step to having her first real boyfriend. That had only backfired, and she had left further behind than ever before.

It wasn't something she wanted to go through again, but it seemed as though every time she pulled herself away, Greg managed to find a way in. But lately…he seemed too distant to notice anything. Sure, he had quite a bit to focus on, just passing his proficiency a few weeks ago. He was still under her charge, and he was learning quite well. Why would his studies be on anything other than his work?

The pool was closed, as well as the spa, even though she had no intentions of swimming on this trip she found herself disappointed. Even though she didn't have her swimsuit, it would have been nice to dip her feet in, or if she was really daring, skinny-dipping was a possibility. Although she doubted that she would get away with it, and the last thing she needed was a charge on her report back home.

Ecklie had wanted her fired, and it was Grissom who had stepped in. It was the only reason she still had a job. She hadn't been truthful with Greg about all that had happened that night, there were many secrets that she still hid from him. She didn't want to keep secrets from him, knowing that a relationship was built on a foundation of trust. But then did it really matter, concerning their single status at the current moment?

With a sigh she headed back up to the room, stopping by the vending machine on her way back. She was hungrier than what was offered there, but she was also very tired as well. The pair had been working exceptionally hard, and the long drive had only worn them out further.

Therefore it was to her surprise to find Greg still awake when she came back in. He was still on the bed, leaning against the pillows that were propped against the headboard of the king sized bed. It was too warm to be under the covers, and he had taken off his shirt, only leaving him in a pair of black jeans.

The window had been left open, but without a breeze it wasn't much help, and the hotel's air conditioning unit was currently down. Greg glanced up as she came in, but only briefly as his eyes darted back down to the book he held in his hands.

"I thought you were resting," Sara commented, coming up behind him to watch over his shoulder. "Logic problems…why am I not surprised?"

Greg grinned, marking off another square. "Believe me, this is resting. I don't have to think."

"The whole point of logic problems is to get you thinking Greg," Sara pointed out, opening the small packet of sunflower seeds.

"Maybe, at least I don't take half an hour to walk to a vending machine that is five feet down the hall."

"I was checking things out," she shot back, moving around to the other side of the bed. "Why does it matter to you?"

He shrugged, growing quiet. "It doesn't really…just got a little worried that's all."

She smiled, but he never saw as she quickly finished up the rest of the bag. Her hunger had barely dissipated, but she was in no real mood to complain, or even try to find something else to eat, even if it meant another $1.25 and a handful of steps down the hallway.

Instead she moved over to the table, tossing the empty bag in the small trashcan as she opened up her suitcase, sighing as she dug through it. Greg looked up from where he was still stretched out, the book now on the bed next to his stomach.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head as she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip. "I forgot to pack any pajamas…and I only one change of clothes, ones that I was hoping to change into after we work the scene tomorrow."

"You took an hour and a half to pack, and you forgot pajamas? Amazing."

"Don't say a word," she warned, cutting him off. However she couldn't help but smile when she heard him laughing.

"There's a shirt of mine that you can use," he offered, nodding to his own small bag on the other side of the room. He had dropped it off near the door when they first had come through. "It should be long enough."

Sara nodded her thanks, but didn't move, unsure if he was going to get it for her, or if he minded her going through all of his things. When he didn't move she took it as an indication that he didn't mind. After all, what did he have to hide?

His clothes were neatly folded, with toiletries in a separate bag. It was an unusual twist to the zany lab rat she knew so well. The new Greg was quite different, but not unlikable. She had found herself in indecision, to whether she liked the new Greg better, or if she preferred the old one.

Of course, training Greg in the field had been a big change for her. She enjoyed doing so, and it was fun watching him learn and succeed. He would be a level two before long, and she would help him.

The shirt was clear at the bottom, a long red and white shirt with short sleeves, a silky material. The writing on it was faded, but clearly supported some sort of band and a smile crossed her lips. That wasn't a surprise. She wondered silently what Greg did for music anymore as she wandered into the enlarged bathroom.

Obviously he didn't carry a boom box with him to the scenes he processed, and he no longer brought his MP3 player to work. It seemed as though he the music had left with the old Greg as well.

He was already asleep by the time she came back out, still on top of the covers. She crawled up next to him, head resting on the pillow as she watched his sleep, taking care to give him enough room. His face was pale, and it worried her a little, but she quickly reminded herself it was most likely from overworking, and not getting enough sleep. She certainly couldn't blame him for anything when she had the same faults herself.

Letting out a weary sigh she rolled over on her other side, facing the wall now. When they woke up it wouldn't be too much longer before they could head out to the scene, and once processed, they would be on their way back to Vegas. There wasn't much that could go wrong from here.

**TBC**


	5. Gunfire

**Wow, this was a hard chapter to write. Major thanks goes out to Jenny, this would not be here if it wasn't for her. She is a true lifesavor, and a wonderful writer and friend. This chapter goes out to her.**

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**Chapter Five: Gunfire**

She had, for the most part, slept soundly; despite an aching headache which most likely came from the emptiness in her stomach, she felt refreshed…somewhat. Now if only the grating noise would go away, everything would indeed be perfect. With a sigh she pulled the pillow of her head, muttering a few curses under her breath before shouting out a warning for the intruder to go away.

The response that came was unexpected, but not all too surprising considering her location. The shrill, yet somewhat muffled voice only added to her quickly growing mood.

"Housekeeping!"

She let out a groan, wrapping her arms around the pillow so that she could hold it close around her head. "We don't want any…"

Surely Greg must have put up the 'do not disturb' signs. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal, save for the fact they started cleaning right around the same time the pair normally slept. So in the end, it was a rather big deal, and a very annoying one.

There was another round of knocking, another shout through the door, prompting Sara to growl quietly. There was very little chance of her falling back asleep now. Still there had to be some way to get rid of the problem.

Grumpily she demanded that Greg should be the one answering the door, he was closer. She had no idea if he was listening, or even awake for that matter. She brought the covers up further around her chin, staving away the chill that had seized the room sometime during the early morning. As the voice came again there was a chill that ran down her spine. Did it seem closer than before?

Surely the maid wouldn't just wander in, and even if he or she had done so, they would have left once seeing the room was indeed in use. It came again, and this time she was certain, not only did it sound closer than before, but someone was now pulling the covers off of her.

Sitting up quickly one hand seized the retreating covers, the other balancing her weight as she cursed the man before her, blushing fiercely when realizing that it was Greg that was before her. He sat down laughing, a large grin split across his face.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to realize that it was me."

She scowled, sinking back into the pillows as her humiliation furthered. There was no maid, no housekeeper…just Greg, being more or less, Greg. And why she fell for it so easily appalled her, even being half asleep wasn't a real excuse.

"That wasn't funny," she grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as she worked to quiet her racing heart.

"Then why am I laughing?"

"Because you're an idiotic moron, that's why," she shot back at him, still angry, but unable to deny the smile that was working it's way across her face. Something about Greg always got her going; there were few times that she could actually stay angry with longer than the precise moment at hand.

"Then I'll keep in mind to keep clear of you today," Greg joked, stretching down across the bed. "The crime lab called, they say our results finally came in. I was figuring that you would probably want something to eat before we headed in. Mainly because I'm starving myself, and I know that small bag of sunflower seeds wasn't enough to fill you up."

Sara rubbed her head, glancing at the cheaply built alarm clock that was near the bed. "It's only ten," she replied with a frown, turning back to him. "We've slept for four hours, and I'm still tired."

He shrugged, "You've worked doubles on less sleep than that," he pointed out mildly.

"So, I'm still tired now. The results can wait. Besides, you can't tell me that you're fully rested. Obviously you've been up for a while, having showered and already dressed, and taking into consideration on how tired you were before…don't you ever sleep anymore?"

He drew back, up into a sitting position, his face drifting from the smile it held earlier, melting into a frown. "I just don't like sleeping in strange places, that's all…just drop it."

"You don't have to be so grouchy about it," she informed him, already moving to climb out of the bed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stood. "I'm just getting tired of everyone getting on me about my sleeping habits."

She came to a stop, glancing over her shoulder even as her hands dug through her bag. "Do you have a problem?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he warned, his voice growing edgy.

She snorted in response, before heading into the bathroom. Sometimes Greg drove her up the wall, other times he worried her. This was a combination of both. If others had noticed that something was up with him, then there most certainly was. But then again maybe she was the one overacting. After all, she pushed herself relentlessly sometimes, and had been reprimanded about the same fact many times over.

Would it really be fair to corner him, make him confess when she more and likely faced the same dilemma? With a sigh she stepped into the shower, relaxing under the gentle warm spray, hoping that it would be enough to shake the drowsiness out of her.

* * *

Placing her folded napkin on her lap, Sara glanced back up, resisting the urge to laugh at the bewildered look that occupied her companion's face. "Problem, Greg?"

"Absolutely none, as long as I order a glass of water, I should be fine," he set the menu down, running a hand through his hair. "Tell me one more time why you chose this place? There was a perfectly good fast food place right next door to the hotel."

"One, it's nicer than that fast food place. I'm surprised they haven't evacuated the building from the looks of it. Besides, I like quieter, cleaner places that don't smell like meat. And before you ask, I don't care what you order. You put up with my 'green stuff' as you like to call it; I think I can stand one meal smelling meat."

Greg smiled, shrugging his shoulders as he picked the menu back up. "I can't afford a meal here. The hotel alone is going to kill me. And here you are, just 'trying' to save me money. Doesn't seem like it." He let out a sigh, reconsidering his options.

"I'm going to have to get something; I'm too hungry to just wait until the next meal."

"If you're going to mope and groan over the prices, then I'll just pay," Sara broke in, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It was amazing how men were able to find the smallest detail to complain over.

"I'm not going to let you pay my part of the meal," Greg shook his head, "I'm not poor you know."

She shrugged, "Just saying, after all, you are the one complaining about all the prices."

"I wasn't complaining." Greg muttered, shutting the menu, "Someone just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Sara laughed, "Maybe it was because someone was banging on my door like a fool, and dragging me out of bed with only four hours sleep."

"I still think its funny," he offered up.

"You think everything is funny."

"Not everything," he shrugged, "just most things."

"Whatever," she waved him off, rubbing her forehead with one free hand. "What was it exactly the crime lab had for us?"

"I gave trace the samples of the butter they collected, and had them do some comparisons with store bought brands. So I'm gathering they found something out. Mikayla was also doing some extra work for me, but I haven't heard back from her yet."

"You gave her your number?" Sara asked, skeptical now.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

She huffed lightly, but shook her head. Of course she had known Greg's number longer, but she had to get it from Warrick. Leave it to Greg to hand out his personal cell phone number to some complete stranger. Just because she was attractive.

"I know that look," Greg nodded towards, "you're jealous."

"I am not," Sara frowned, ready to defend herself.

"You are so jealous," Greg grinned, toying with his own napkin, "you want me so bad."

"I tend to disagree," she replied, trying to remain smug. She was surprised to see him laughing.

"You know I'm just joking," Greg smiled, his tone lightening up.

"Yeah," she nodded, feeling grim herself, realizing that Greg had been right, even in jest. The notion hit her hard, leaving her feeling empty. She was jealous that someone else had caught his eye.

"Are you okay?"

Nodding she looked up quickly, angry at the fact she had allowed herself to slip down so far in front of him like this. "I'm perfectly fine," she answered, her voice level, but clearly far from the truth.

* * *

It was a good thing it wasn't cold, because all Sara had was a short sleeved shirt. Her coat, amazingly enough, had been left behind at the hotel. After a brief argument, Greg and Sara finally agreed on checking out of the hotel after the scene, just in case they needed a place to crash before making the journey home.

Greg had wanted to check out then, that way they didn't have to back track. It wasn't until after Sara had pointed out they would need to go back to the crime lab anyways that he finally gave in.

Sara was the first to reach the officer, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as Greg followed up behind at a more leisurely pace. The Officer watched with a quiet expression, hands in back pocket. He seemed a little…tense.

"Were you the first responding officer?" Sara started, only to stop as she rethought her question. "I mean…to the original crime scene."

"Yeah," he nodded, shifting in his stance. "Officer Mckinely, I surveyed the team, they did everything that's right by them. Waited until they left, sent up the barricades. Just came back tonight."

Greg was already ahead of her, scanning the ground with his flashlight. Sara had already set her own case on the ground, choosing instead to stay behind with the officer. "Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well…I haven't checked the scene out yet, not tonight at least."

"What about the first time you arrived? You got there before CSI, correct?" Sara offered up instead.

"Well yes, at least we're supposed to. Secure the scene and all of that, make sure it's actually a crime. No sense on calling CSI out for a phony, right?"

Sara nodded, moving to question him further but was interrupted by Greg, who motioned for her to come on over. With a short nod she stepped over a curl of loose crime scene tape, coming to a stop behind him. With a nod Greg shone his flashlight straight down. "What do you see?"

"A blood pool," Sara offered up quickly, frowning though after studying it for a moment. "A perfect blood pool."

"You've been a CSI for how long? How many perfect blood pools have you seen?"

"Not very many," Sara nodded in agreement, "most all of them were recreated crime scenes at conventions and such. This can't be right, I mean, the smell alone would attract coyotes, cougars, raccoons…this would be an invitation to a buffet."

She reached down with one gloved finger, sliding it through the undisturbed pool, watching as the barriers broke, allowing fresh blood underneath to flow over the hardening top layer.

Her bloody fingertip shone under Greg's flashlight even as she exchanged glances with him. "This isn't right, the blood is too fresh. It should be all the way dried by now."

"Fresh blood, fresh…body?"

"Another crime?" Sara wondered, frowning. "That doesn't even make sense…"

"Well," Greg suggested, "if the same killer had another body to dump, and he came back here, only to see that it was already a crime scene?"

"And he would wait clear until he was in the middle of the tapped off section to grow a conscious? Besides, a body dump wouldn't leave this much blood. This has to be a primary crime scene."

"Then where is the body?"

Sara let out a sigh, one hand resting on her hip, the other taking care not to get the blood on her clothes. "I don't know…it just doesn't make any sense."

Behind them the officer let out a silent breath, reaching to where he had his gun. He hadn't taken as much care this time as he had last, and the plan was starting to backfire. He had no choice to but to make a move now, before they decided to call in any help.

Drawing in another breath, he pulled his gun free, advancing slowly up to where the pair had wandered off to. It wasn't until he was almost on top of the pair that the brunette suddenly turned, aware of his presence at the very last moment. By then it was too late, and he didn't even breathe as gunfire tore through the silence of the night.

**TBC**


	6. A Sticky Situation

**Thanks for all your reviews, I love reading them. This turned out to be a longer chapterthan I first expected. F****irstpost for a long time that I've done on my own without any real help from my beta, so all mistakes are mine. **

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**Chapter Six: A Sticky Situation**

A sharp swift crack had filled the air, barley giving Sara enough time to register the sound as the hair near her face was brushed back from the force of the propelling object. Her first instinct was to duck, but the second came on stronger, bred into her from countless training sessions. She reached for her gun.

"Put it down," she warned, letting out a slow breath. Even with her own gun ready to fire it did not change the fact there was another barrel in her face, literally inches from the bridge of her nose. She had been trained in firearms, but not negotiations. That wasn't her job. And she was afraid.

"You're not really in a position to making demands," Mckinely stated, his finger tightening on the trigger. He may have missed the first shot, but he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Without word he quickly glanced over to his left, staring down the other man who had started to creep up on him. "Stay where you are, I'll shoot."

Greg took a step back, hands held up in the air ever so slightly. He had no firearms on him, no real defense. The only thing he could offer was a distraction. Sara wasn't watching him, her eyes instead on the armed officer. She wouldn't shoot, not at this moment. He knew Sara well enough to know that even though sometimes she was rash, she wasn't stupid.

When Mckinely turned away again Greg took the moment to access the situation. There really was no logical way to disarm him. Sara's well being was the first concern, and even under the dim lights from the vehicle behind them he could already see the blood the trickled down the side of her cheek. There was a fierce concentration in her eyes, and her hands shook slightly as they gripped the weapon tightly, her hands mere inches below Mckinely's.

"What are you trying to prove?" Sara asked coldly, drawing in another deep breath. As of right now it was the only thing keeping her calm. It was the first time in her life that she had ever had a gun in her face, and it was not a pleasant experience.

"Put down your gun, and we'll talk," Mckinely breathed slowly, inching his way closer to her.

"Unfortunately that's not an option," Sara replied coldly, matching his steps evenly.

"Maybe you should listen to him," Greg offered up quietly from where he stood.

"Shut up Greg," Sara snapped, not even turning his way.

"You put down your weapon or I'll shoot him."

"Okay Sara, you should definitely listen to him," Greg whispered loudly, tensing up as the officer looked his way.

"You even try and you'll be begging for death," Sara snapped, drawing the man's attention back to her. It was too dangerous to attempt a shot at this range, not only did she have to count in the fact that she could be shot in the process, but she most likely would be hurt in the end as well. Not only that, the last thing she needed on her agenda was murder. Self-defense was one thing, but murder? A completely different story.

All she had to do was keep him talking until help arrived. Mentally she laughed at herself, too nervous to do so in actuality. It would be hours before any one would even start to wonder about them, and possibly several more hours before they sent someone out to search. And with the all the 'shortages' they had of officers, it would be a miracle if someone did show up within the night. There was no possible way that she could keep him talking that long.

He was outnumbered, two to one, but Sara wouldn't risk bringing Greg into such a dangerous situation unprepared. So in the end it was a battle of wits; brains over brawn, she silently reminded herself.

"How about I just shoot you instead?" Mckinely suggested quietly.

"Try," Sara dared him, praying silently that he wouldn't. He seemed to consider the option, his face tight as he remained silent. Sara frowned, her eyes still fixed on him. Obviously they couldn't stand here all night with guns in their faces, someone would have to give in soon, and she was afraid that it would be her. She had to at least attempt to convince him to drop his weapon.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm being offered twice my annual salary to finish this, and you stand there and ask why?" Mckinely laughed, shaking his head.

"Someone's paying you to kill us off?" Sara questioned quietly, barely able to believe what she was hearing.

"Not you personally," he shrugged, glancing at Greg who still stood off to the side. "Just someone from LVPD. No personal feelings."

"None," Greg replied mildly, using his time to scope the area out around them. The vehicles were a good stretch away from them; the officer's and their own rental car sitting side by side, but they would first need to get around Mckinely. Obviously that wasn't really an option.

The road itself curved into the impending forest, and though there were only scattered trees around them at the moment, the woods became dense the further you ventured in. The only problem was the dip that ran along the shoulder of the road. He was too far away to get a reasonable look at it, but in the darkness he was unable to see the ground beyond the guard rail. He glanced back up as Sara continued talking.

"Why someone from LVPD?"

"Stop asking questions," Mckinely groaned, "It's not like it'll matter in the end. Put your gun down and I'll promise that I'll make this as quick and painless as I can."

"Wow, there's a bargain we can't refuse," Greg scoffed, frowning.

Sara tightened her grip on the gun as the officer looked away again. There was a plan forming her mind, and it would take all her wits in order for it to work. What she needed now was a distraction. She risked the glance, making eye contact with Greg, giving him a short nod. 'Keep talking,' she mouthed, turning her attention back to the front.

Greg frowned, trying to make out what she had said, watching as Mckinely focused on Sara once more. Then with a sudden sigh he understood. "And you think you'll get away with this?"

He wasn't sure of what else to say, but it was enough, causing the officer to look sharply in his direction, a smile playing on his face. It was all Sara needed, and with a quick burst of adrenaline she brought her hands up, connecting with the underside of Mckinely's fists.

The blow rattled through her arms, a sharp stinging sensation attacking her hands, the unexpected pain nearly causing her to drop her own gun. But she was more prepared than Mckinely, who let out a shocked cry as the gun fell from his hands.

Recovering quickly, Sara kicked the fallen weapon away from him, over to where Greg stood. He wasted little time in recovering it for himself, moving closer to Sara all the while keeping the gun trained on Mckinely.

The officer was still on his hands his knees, his failed attempt of reclaiming his only defense. Cautiously he raised his eyes, intimidated by the two barrels that were aimed at him.

"I guess we didn't think of everything," Sara commented quietly, directing her next statement to Greg.

"He should have a radio in his car; our cell phones are useless out here. Call for backup, we'll explain the situation when they get out here."

"Who, me?" Greg wondered, turning to her.

"Yes you!" Sara cried, rolling her eyes, "who in the hell do you think I'm talking to?"

"Sorry," Greg apologized, "I'm just making sure." He took a few steps back, sliding the barrel into the hem of his pants after making sure that the safety was on. Greg was sure to give them enough room and space as he quickly jogged back to the patrol car.

Sara watched him go, her eyes flicking back down on the man's fallen form. He was breathing heavy, not even watching her. For a short moment she could feel herself breath as she turned to watch Greg one more time. They were going to be okay…

Her feet left the ground quickly, and in vain attempt she found that she had let go of the gun in order to break her fall. Her shins still ached where the blow had landed, and in a sudden twist of fate she found out they had changed roles. She was now the one on the ground, Mckinely standing over holding her gun. Mentally she cursed herself for looking away, for giving him any sort of opportunity.

"I should just shoot you right now," Mckinely whispered, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. He knew the other was already radioing for help, and the anxiety was grating on his already wound-up nerves.

"Sara? Are you okay?"

She was thankful to see Greg already coming up, gun ready to fire. However, she also knew that Greg had never handled a gun before, and she prayed silently that he wouldn't do anything that he would regret.

"Yeah," Sara mused quietly, scooting backwards. Her attention was turned back to the front as Mckinely took a step forward.

"Put it down or I'll shoot," he warned. It was the same threat he had been giving all night, and Sara firmly shook her head.

"Don't Greg."

He stood their apprehensively, looking back and forth between the pair.

"I'd really hate to shoot her in front of you," Mckinely continued.

"You put that gun down and we're both dead," Sara told him, doing her best to keep both men in her line of sight at the same time.

"I can't," Greg breathed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Sara whispered, watching as Greg slowly lowered his gun. He didn't honestly believe all these lies Mckinely was feeding them, did he?

The gun fell from his hands, clattering on the concrete. The officer was smirking above her, nodding towards him. "Smart move, kick it away."

With a defeated sigh Greg did as he was told, walking back away from him slowly. Satisfied now the officer nodded to Sara. "Go stand next to him, and hurry. Thanks to your friend here we don't have a lot of time to get this right."

With a scowl Sara reluctantly climbed to her feet, glaring at Greg as she neared him. "You couldn't have waited until back up arrived?"

"I couldn't get through," Greg whispered back without even looking at her. "Relax, I have plan."

"Does it involve getting us killed?" she wondered briefly, returning the officer's icy stare. Slowly Mckinely reached down to claim the other weapon, taking his eyes off the pair for a brief moment. It was all Greg needed.

"Jump!"

She could only watch as Greg scrambled over the guard rail, glancing over her shoulder as Mckinely's own shout could be heard. The man was quickly stuffing the second weapon in his belt, trying to free his hands up in order to grip the other gun. She didn't need a second invitation.

A surprised yelp left her lips as she landed on the slanted ground, quickly going into a roll as three sharp shots echoed through the air above them. It wasn't very far to the bottom, and Greg was already pulling her to her feet, half guiding, half pulling her along as he began to run once again.

There were more gunshots after a short pause, and Sara could only guess that he had switched guns. The odds were in their favor, a moving target was difficult to hit, and even if they were, the chances of the wound being fatal was even less. It still wasn't a very pleasant thought, and she urged herself on, keeping close on Greg's heels.

She barely had time to register as her pant leg snagged on a fallen branch, sending her to the ground. Her breath left her in one swift moment, and Sara found herself struggling to breath, barely able to register the pain as Greg hauled her back to her feet once more, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady. Distance, right now, was the only hope they had.

**TBC**


	7. A Simple Solution?

**Chapter Seven: A Simple Solution? **

She couldn't see where she was going; doing her best to keep Greg in her line of sight, trusting that he could navigate through the twisted maze of trees and rocks, darting from one side to the next. Her body still ached from where she had fallen, but she ignored the pain for now, dodging to the right as Greg did so in front of her. The gunfire had long ago died down, but like Greg, she didn't want to stop. Not until she was certain they were out of sight, out of danger.

She nearly ran into him as he came to a sudden stop, dodging to the side and around him. "What are you doing?"

"I can't breathe," Greg complained, hunched over now, his hands on his knees. He drew in a few ragged breaths, trying to make her out in the darkness. "Besides…I think, we lost him."

"You lost him?" Sara questioned, looking around, "Or you lost us?"

"Don't start," Greg warned, easing himself down against a tree with an uneasy breath.

"Nice plan," Sara grumbled, taking a look around. There wasn't much to see in the darkness, and being unprepared as this left her feeling a little anxious.

"We're alive, aren't we?"

"For now," Sara pointed out grumpily, already pacing the area cautiously. "What's your next plan?"

"We wait until morning," Greg said quietly. "When we can see what we are doing, we head back out. Our officer friend will be gone by then, most likely halfway across the country."

"So, what if we can't find our way out? What if he's still waiting for us?" Sara started, only to be cut off by Greg.

"And what if we're suddenly attacked by flesh-eating birds?" Greg responded sarcastically. "I don't know Sara; I'm sort of running blind here. I didn't exactly have time to plan for any of this."

"You know," Sara crossed her arms, her voice growing cold. "We wouldn't be in his mess if you hadn't dropped that gun."

"He had a gun to your head Sara," Greg defended himself, fingers pressed against his temples as he fought a rising headache.

"He wouldn't have shot me, not if you had that gun."

"I hate guns Sara!" Greg snapped. "You know that, you've known it for years. Why the hell do you think I don't carry one? You think I enjoy having no defense, no weapon of any kind?"

"You have to stop it then," Sara met his own anger, matching it easily. "You can't always be afraid. If you had a gun then we could have had this guy. Why can't you understand that?"

"Why are you trying to blame this entire mess on me?" Greg wondered, pushing himself to his feet. "Am I the one who pulled the gun out? Am I the one who was making all the threats?"

"Don't change the story," she snapped, frowning as he came up to her.

With a sigh Greg pulled his sleeve up, pressing it against her open wound on her cheek, holding her still with his other hand. She tensed up; trying to pull away but he held her there, doing the best to stop the flow of blood.

"That hurts," she complained bitterly, tilting her head to the side as she tried to pull out of his grasp.

"Relax," Greg resisted the urge to roll his eyes, although in the darkness Sara probably wouldn't even see anyways. "I'm not killing you."

She let out a breath, closing her eyes. For once it was silent around them, their earlier emotions already draining away. Greg shifted uncomfortably, trying to wipe her face clean, uncertain if he had actually helped or not.

"You're lucky," he told her quietly. "That bullet was meant for you."

"Yeah…" Sara agreed in the same fashion, pulling back when Greg let her go. Her hand wandered up to her face, pressing against the still bleeding wound. She hadn't even known she was hurt.

He let out a sigh, "Look, it's just stupid to stand here and fight, it's not going to solve any of our problems. We ran all the way out here, and most likely left a mess on the way. When it gets light out we should be able to track our way back easily enough."

"Okay, so let's say he's still waiting for us up there?" Sara wondered, "We're unarmed, not to mention in a completely different state. We don't know who this guy is, or who he even is working for."

Greg nodded, "He said it wasn't us in particular, just someone from our area…"

"Which could mean anything," Sara pointed out, sitting down. The ground was cold; damp from a previous drizzle. "We should try to get some rest," she let out a yawn, wishing now that they had their hotel room…maybe even their car. Anything was better than this…

"It's not safe for both of to go to sleep," Greg stated, glancing towards her. "You go ahead, I'll stay awake."

"Are you sure?" Sara wondered, already knowing the little sleep he had before.

"I'm not tired."

It was the last response she expected, but before she could argue she stopped herself, remembering how defensive he had gotten the last time. All they needed now was something new to fight over. Besides, she was longing for her other four hours of sleep she had missed out on earlier, thanks to certain someone. The same someone who was offering to stay awake so she could go to sleep.

With a reluctant sigh she leaned back against the trunk of a tree, pulling off her gloves with a frown. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but it would have to do for now. She crumbled the gloves into a ball, before letting her hands rest on her knees. She was starting to agree with Greg…coming out here had been a bad idea.

* * *

Things couldn't have gone worse, not even if he intentionally sabotaged his own agenda. Exactly what else could go wrong tonight?

Mckinely let out a frustrated groan, his fingers running through his short-cropped hair. What was he going to do now? He should have pulled the trigger when he had the chance. Sure, it would have risked his one life, but at least the job would be done and over with. And an injury would only further convince the others that he was telling the truth.

His phone rang, the sudden shrillness splitting the silence. Cursing softly he pulled it out, grimacing as he checked the caller ID. There really hadn't been a need to; he already knew who would be calling. Still, he had been hoping against all odds that he was wrong.

"Is it finished?" the sharp tone asked, the same one he was quickly starting to loathe.

"Not really…there's been a change of plans."

"Exactly what do you mean?" the voice wondered, the icy tone sending shivers down Mckinely's spine.

"Well…sir, they uh…they got away," he stammered, pulling the phone away from his ear as an outburst of vibrant choice words flooded the air. The ranting and raving continued for several long minutes, and Mckinely waited until it had quieted before assuring himself that it was safe to bring the phone back.

"I'll take care of it," he replied quietly, trying to convince himself in the process.

"You will," the voice warned, "If there are any more mistakes…"

"I know," Mckinely cut in, neither wanting, nor needing for the other to finish the statement. "What about my money?"

He was daring enough to try. He already knew what the probably answer would be, yet he felt it was his right to argue. After all, half the deed had already been done.

"When, and if, you finish. Remember, it's your ass on the line. Make sure they are dead."

The silence was just as eerie as the voice had been, if not even worse. Mckinely was starting to regret going along with the outrageous plan. To make matters worse he was expected back at the station in only a few hours. What if he couldn't find the pair before then? Surely the crime lab wouldn't wait to raise an alarm, and if they were found…

He closed his eyes, gripping the gun once more. They wouldn't be found, he quietly reminded himself. At least not alive…

* * *

"What do you mean an accident?" Catherine demanded, following her supervisor around the corner. "Like car accident…an accident with the case…the people at the lab?"

"I'm not sure," Grissom responded, entering his office. There were mounds of paperwork stacked on his desk, and although this would be the perfect opportunity to dismiss himself from it, he was needed in court in just a few days. There was no way he could miss that.

"Ecklie received a call from the crime lab up in Oregon stating that they needed a supervisor to come up because of an incident. They won't say anything else."

"And you called me in on my night off because…?"

"Because you're going," Grissom offered up, pulling the first stack off his desk with a heavy sigh.

"I'm going?" she asked, startled. "Why am I going? Grissom, I'm supposed to be on vacation starting tomorrow. You can't send me on some escapade now. I'm not even a supervisor, and you said it yourself, they need a supervisor."

"Well," Grissom nodded to her, "Consider yourself promoted for the next few days while you work things out."

"And what exactly are you going to do?" she wondered, frowning as she rested against the back of the chair. There was a bit of apprehension in her voice, but it matched the same anxiety that he felt. Surely if there was a real problem they would have informed Ecklie of it. But the fact they wouldn't clarify threw that notion out the window.

"The Purhon's case is on trial; Warrick and I have to testify. I thought you knew that."

"I conveniently forgot," Catherine remarked sarcastically. If she remembered, why would she even be asking?

"Ecklie was able to get a small charter plane to take you up there; Nick's going along as well. I'm not sure how long you'll be up there, but you may want to take some essentials along with you. And don't be late," Grissom reminded her sternly. "Ecklie's having a fit over it, and the pilot charges per hour."

"Ecklie, upset?" Catherine wondered, "Well I'd never thought I'd see that day. I will tell you one thing though," she stated, moving to stand, "If this is just some prank Greg and Sara are trying to pull, they will regret it."

"I'm sort of hoping that's all it is," he responded with a low sigh. Yet somehow, knowing the pair, he was worried that it was much more than that, and he was anxious to avoid the next few days that would come.

**TBC**


	8. Into the Forest

**Chapter Eight: Into the Forest**

With a sullen sigh Catherine pulled her sunglasses off, glancing at the area before them. Nick was behind her side, discussing the situation quietly with one of the officers. The small charter plane had dropped them off a little more than two hours ago, and straight after that a rental car had taken them to the lab. From there they had gone straight out the scene, with grim explanations on the way.

The on scene officer had been wounded, and was being treated when they arrived. She could hear Nick sigh behind her as he turned to another page.

"You want to tell me again what happened?" Nick asked him, "This time go a little bit slower."

"I was watching the scene like I was supposed to," he started out, wetting his lips as he did so. He had to pause as the medic wrapped the white gauze around his injured arm, wincing as it came in contact with the wound.

"Everything was going fine…then he started acting weird…"

"Can you be a little more specific?" Nick wondered quietly, jotting down a few sparse notes.

"Well, Mr. Sanders…he started getting angry. He was yelling and started to push the lady around. I tried to break it up…then he pulled a gun out."

"We are currently aware that Mr. Sanders does not carry a gun," Nick informed the officer, feeling a little awkward to be announcing his friend with such formality. He disregarded that notion quickly afterwards. At this point, both Greg and Sara were suspects; he could not bring his on personal feelings into the investigation.

"No," Mckinely shook his head. "He took it from Miss Sidle. There was a brief struggle between them."

"And what did you do during this time?"

"Well, I pulled my gun out. But he already had the gun to her head. I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her safety. I had no choice but to comply…"

"What happened afterwards," Nick asked him, moving to watch the man's face. It was beginning to sound a little more than fabricated now.

"I don't know for sure…there was a lot of yelling, and screaming…fighting. The gun went off, I returned fire…I was hit with one of his bullets, and that's when it stopped. They were gone."

"Can you tell me what direction they went in?"

Mckinely turned his head, gazing in that very direction, but quickly looked the other way. "North…they headed north."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked him, waiting for the answer.

"Positive."

* * *

"Do you have any idea where you are going?" Sara wondered briefly, nearly stumbling over a pile of rocks. "Any at all?"

"Not really," Greg muttered in return, continuing the tiresome trek uphill. "I figured we were going the same way we came."

"Unbelievable," Sara shook her head, scrambling up the hillside after him. She wasn't as flexible as he was when it came to outdoor adventures such as this. "You've gotten us lost again, the second time in two days. TWO days Greg. You're the only one that can manage something like that."

"I guess that makes me special then," he commented wryly, coming to a stop once he reached the top of the hill. "Besides, I know where I am. That defeats the entire purpose of being lost."

"Alright," Sara nodded as she came to a stop next to him, working to catch her breath. "Where are we?"

"Oregon," he answered simply, stepping over a log as he worked his way down the small hill.

She frowned, watching him as he half walked, half stumbled down the grassy side. "Well it's good to know we're still in the same state," she remarked sarcastically, moving carefully to follow him down.

"We need to find a river, or a trail…something that we can follow," Greg mused, ignoring her last comment.

"Well moss grows on the north side of trees," Sara offered up, coming up behind him.

It was Greg who frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "As well as south, east and west, even more so around these parts."

"Sun rises in the east, sets in the west," she offered up next, glancing toward the sky. "If we get a general position of the sun, keep it in mind…"

"Maybe," Greg said with a sigh, lowering himself to the ground. "Or maybe we should just stop walking."

"And do what?"

"Wait for someone to find us," he shrugged his shoulders, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Greg…" Sara drew in a breath, chewing on her lip. "No one knows we're gone. We weren't going to stop at the lab on our way back, and we're not expected back in Vegas until tomorrow at the earliest. We can pretty much assume our officer friend hasn't called anything in either. It's going to be days yet before anyone start to even worry. Even longer before a search is started. We're on our own out here."

"Talk about your encouraging thoughts," Greg muttered lightly, letting out a yawn.

"You want to hear more?" she wondered, not waiting for him to respond. "We have no food, no water. We have our phones, but without service that doesn't do us a lot of good. To top everything off, we have no idea where we are."

She stopped to find Greg laughing, frowning as she did so. "You find this amusing?"

"You want to know what the best part of this is?"

She raised an eyebrow waiting for him to continue.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "I'm paying 300 dollars a night for a hotel room I'm not even staying in. Isn't that great?"

She nodded slightly, still frowning. "I think the heat's getting to you." Sara lowered herself to the ground as well, sitting cross-legged in front of him, deciding to take a break as well since it was obvious Greg was in no hurry to go anywhere soon.

"Something on your mind?" Sara asked quietly, being the one to break the silence.

"Just thinking," Greg muttered quietly, staring at the ground now.

"Obviously," Sara laughed, earning a brief smile out of him.

He shifted, supporting his weight with his hands as he leaned back. "About Mckinely…why he wanted us dead…why someone's paying him to kill us off. I'm trying to remember if anyone had any grudges against the department. The scene was staged, obviously…so was everything one big plan to get back at someone?"

Sara shook her head, growing grim. "I honestly don't know Greg, I can't remember off the top of my head. I'd need to pull files, use resources."

"Just makes me wonder if we could have prepared for it," he muttered quietly.

Sara was quick in shaking her head. "No one knew about it," she told him. "How could anyone?"

"I don't know," Greg looked up at her. "It's just…hard to imagine this might be it."

"You're not giving up already are you?" Sara asked shocked, "It's been, what? Twelve hours since we've been out here, and you already have one foot in the grave."

He gave her a meek smile, tilting his head. "The odds are against us Sara; I'm only sticking to facts. You know them as well as I do."

"That doesn't mean anything," she reminded him. "We may be outnumbered, but we're not lost…well, we are lost, I meant metaphorically..."

"I know what you mean," Greg cut her off with a little smile. "We should keep walking," he finished quietly, moving to stand up. "We won't be able to see much when the sun goes down, so if we're going to get anywhere, we need to keep move."

She grasped the hand that was offered, giving him a comforting smile as he pulled her up. "You lead, I'll follow."

* * *

He as on medical leave; his department had made sure of it. Partially due to his injury, the other? Traumatic stress. He would argue, normally, but this only served to help him, give him time to think. It had taken less then ten minutes to come up with a reasonable plan, but had taken a lot more than guts to follow through on it.

Mckinely had waited a full two hours, pacing back in forth in front of the forested area. When he felt sure that the duo would not return in the same manner they had left the officer had discarded the CSI's gun, tossing it violently in the forest. There was only one thing left to do now. He turned his own gun on him.

The pain had been incredible, making him regret the action a second later. In the end it was necessary. If he returned without the CSI's it would arouse suspicion. And if he didn't come back at all, it would cause panic. The only way to get out of the mess was to create a problem.

Mckinely was good at lying. He had been doing so for the last few years now. Lying to his wife, to his children. Lying to his department. There were so many lies now it was hard to imagine how everything was still holding together. One lie led to another…this was the entire reason that he had gotten into this mess.

No one saw him as he drove away, glancing over his shoulder continuously as he did so. Luckily he had been able to convince everyone that he could drive home himself. He didn't need any escort. Twenty miles into town, a late night store where he bought essentials. Twenty minutes back.

He took care coming along the back side of the crime scene, taking care not to notice as he parked his car out of sight. Taking a moment to double check everything, Mckinely made his way out slowly, avoiding the lights, the sounds, and the commotion.

It would take him twice as long to reach the area as before and even longer to track the pair down. But it was necessary; he had come too far to turn back now. With a breath he clutched the fully loaded weapon in his good hand, heading deeper into the forest.

**TBC**


	9. Rule of Three’s

**Yes I know late post. Yes I know short post. But I will try to have the next part up this weekend. I couldn't find any other way to split it up. Thanks for being patient with me, thanks for all your wonderful reviews. I love reading them so much. **

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Rule of Three's**

So the ground here wasn't incredibly hard, but it wasn't exactly a feathered mattress either. Still, she was too tired to complain. Sara wasn't an outdoor person; hiking and climbing were not hobbies of hers. Combine that with the lack of food and water, you were left with one tired investigator. She shifted on the ground as there was movement around her, the footsteps quiet and carefully placed.

"Where are you going?" Sara asked quietly, opening one eye to watch him.

"I won't be long," Greg reassured her, keeping his voice low despite the fact there was no real need to do so.

"What are you going to do?" she asked hurriedly, moving into a sitting position at the same time.

She heard him sigh as he turned around. "Sara…how many possible things could I have to do out here?"

"Oh…" she nodded in understanding, watching him as he left once again. "Don't go too far."

"Yes mother," came the belated response, loud enough for her to hear, but still on the quiet end. Sara smiled briefly, before leaning against the mossy hillside. Clumps of dirt and leaves stuck to hair as well as her clothes, and the moisture in the air only served to irritate her further. Dark threatening clouds had moved in during the late evening hours. Provoking a thunderstorm off in the distance. There had bee no rain, a disappointment for her as the muggy atmosphere did not help to improve their situation.

Sara swallowed dryly, trying to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth, or the ache in her throat. She was undeniably thirsty at this moment, had been thirsty for the entire day. The simple rule of threes was stuck in her mind, and the second rule was playing over and over again. Three days without water. It had already been over a full day. Twenty eight hours if one was a stickler for time.

Sara wondered briefly if anyone was looking for them, or if Greg had been right about Mckinely dodging out. He would be long gone she was sure of that much. But would he notify someone…she laughed bitterly to herself. What exactly would he tell them? That he tried to kill two out of state CSI's, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn't get hurt?

The scattering sound about her caused her to glance up. A frown had crossed her face and she listened quietly, wondering for a moment if it was Greg coming back. She called his name quietly, moving to her feet as she did so. She could see faint outlines, her eyes for the most part already adjusted to the darkness, but it still didn't make anything easier.

"Greg?" she called his name again, wetting her lips as she moved in the direction he had left, balancing against a tree as she stepped over a patch of rocks. She knew they were there, knew it because she had tripped over them the first time she had come by here.

There was a small path, nearly overgrown by ferns and other plants, a clear sign no one had treaded here recently. That alone was an ill sign for the pair, who had been desperately trying to find some sort of worn pathway that would lead out of this never-ending forest.

Wrapping her arms around her torso she ducked under a couple of low branches, glancing around the area as she called Greg's name once more. Part of her knew she shouldn't wander from the alcove they had selected prior to nightfall, the same area they had been settled in for nearly an hour now.

What would Greg say when he came back there, and found her gone? She had been the one to point out that they should stick together, for separation would only lead to a quicker death. Not that she necessarily planned to die that was.

It was off in the distance she first saw it, but at the time it was unclear to her what it was exactly. In another moment though she realized it was a flashlight, a single solid strip of light weaving back and forth throughout the trees. Sara could scarcely believe her luck. You never doubted the possibility of a rescue, but it wasn't something you expected, at least not so soon.

She jumped down off the small incline, waving her arms as she called out to the distant figure, only to be slammed down a second later, a hand covering her mouth as she was pinned to the ground. The initial blow knocked the wind out of her, and it was difficult to try and breathe through only her nose. The next second though she was struggling to get free, fighting against her unknown attacker.

It was Greg's quiet voice in her ear that finally calmed her down, but she remained tense, Greg still holding her firmly against the ground. A second try of shaking him off proved useless, but within the next moment he was pulling her to her feet, and into the nearby bushes.

"What are you doing?" Sara cried, trying to jerk free of his hold. "There's someone out there!"

"I know that," Greg muttered softly, peering through the scattered leaves, wincing as the light passed over them briefly.

"They could help us," Sara frowned, nearly spelling the idea at hand out. "We wouldn't have to die out here."

"You don't know who that is," Greg started, only to be cut off by Sara.

"Oh yes, because I forget. Now that we're across state lines we have to first make sure if they're friend or foe."

"Don't you think its a little odd there's only one person? Search and rescue travel in teams. Secondly, if that person was looking for us, don't you think they would be calling our names out?"

"It could be just a civilian," Sara pointed out, not willing yet to back down from the near rescue.

"Sure, because just anyone wanders the forest in the middle of the night alone."

Sara didn't respond, her steady gaze on the approaching form. She didn't want to agree with him, more than ready to get out of this unforgiving place, more than ready to just go home. But she had no choice. Greg was right…even as ridiculous as the idea sounded the situation was just odd.

"Come on," he tugged on the back of her shirt gently, pulling her along. "I know somewhere we can go to get a better look…"

She nodded, following him on her hands and knees, a vague attempt at staying hidden even as the figure walked by, apparently trying to stay as hidden as they were. Sara let out a breath, catching a glimpse of his face as he brought the flashlight up, the beam lightly grazing off his features. And for once in her life, she was grateful that Greg had stopped her from making such a deadly decision.

**TBC**


	10. Compassion

**Chapter Ten: Compassion **

Sara drew in a breath, pacing herself as she reached up along the rock face, searching for another handhold. Bits of loose gravel were knocked out the way, scattering down the slanted stone, disappearing somewhere into the darkness below. Sara let out a small gulp, focusing her attention back on the task at hand. She hated heights, hated them with a passion. And now Greg was making her climb.

"Can you see where you're going?" he asked.

Sara growled, continuing to move up as she did so. It wasn't a hard climb, the rocky surface slanted enough that it required the use of both your hands and feet to stay steady, but easy enough that it was only slow going, as opposed to being hard. Greg was only a few feet ahead of her, but he had stopped to glance over his shoulder. It was only the third time he had done so in the last five minutes. What? Did he not think she could climb?

"I can see your big butt," she scoffed heavily, now having to stop in order to wait for him.

She heard him laugh in response. "I didn't even know you liked looking," came the quiet teasing.

Sara blushed an immediate red, her lips pursing tightly. She was only thankful that Greg hadn't seen anything, the former lab-rat already climbing once more. She resumed as well, once getting herself back under control.

The one thing she hated to admit was the fact Greg had been right. For a few minutes before hand all she could think of was being rescued, and seeing the sole person coming towards them had only fueled her hopes.

After thinking of what Greg had said she now felt more foolish than anything. She hadn't taken the time to evaluate the situation, and if she had, she would have realized that something indeed was off. It was a mistake that could have caused the both of them their lives. A fine investigator she turned out to be. It was a sad, sad world when a rookie was correcting her own mistakes.

She wasn't aware she had reached the top; that was until Greg was lending hand in helping her up. Sara ignored it however, relying on her own strength to get over the last bit. Greg watched her with a quizzical gaze, one that she could not see as she rested against the cool ground.

From here they could see the tops of the nearby trees, and the light from the officer as he continued on his way. Sara continued to glance around the area, making a quiet remark at the sheltered cave behind them.

"Reason why I thought we'd be better off here," Greg nodded, sitting down as well. "By morning we might be lucky enough to see how to get out of here."

She watched as he pointed, gazing out into the darkness. It was hard to see much of anything, but it wouldn't be long until the sun would be working its way up. "Find out where a road runs through here, might be lucky enough to snag a ride."

"What if it's just trees?" Sara asked then, the thought coming to her suddenly.

"I highly doubt it," Greg countered, letting out a yawn. "This forest isn't that big."

"Why don't you sleep," She suggested casually, "or are you going to tell me that you're not tired?"

She heard him laugh, but there was no answer to her question, or accusation. It didn't surprise her much. Greg had kept quiet about it for this long, what was stopping him now? Instead she focused her gaze on the sky, hoping and praying for some rain. At the very least it would cool her down, and now with the cave they had shelter nearby there was no real worries of getting sick.

"I started having problems after the lab explosion," Greg said quietly, and for a moment it threw her off track. Before she could even ask he was already talking once again.

"I thought that it was because of the pain mostly…I actually blamed it on the pain for the longest time. That I couldn't get comfortable, that the medication wasn't working. It wasn't until after I completely healed that I knew that wasn't the cause."

He paused here, but only long enough to take a breath. "So I did what most people would do. I went back to the doctor's, got a prescription to help me sleep."

"Did it work?" she asked quietly, unsure as of yet where this story was headed.

"Wonderfully," Greg nodded to her. "When I took it that was. The first night it calmed me down enough…then the second night I tried to go without, but ended up taking some later anyways. Then a third night, and a fourth…"

"You became dependent," Sara stated, catching on now.

"I didn't mean too," Greg countered quickly, not wanting to seem like the bad guy. "It was just something that sort of happened. When I worked in the lab it was no problem…but with field work,"

"You can't be on medication," Sara nodded, already knowing the policy. "What about OTC stuff? That's allowed."

Greg shook his head, "It doesn't work."

"But if you find something that would, just not as strong as what your doctor prescribed you," she started, but Greg was quick in cutting her off.

"I need something that's going to work. Just not kind of, sort of, stuff. And anything stronger would be too big of a risk if I was called out to a case."

Sara nodded in understanding. She never had that sort of problem, so it was unfair of her to judge him. Part of her knew that Greg would handle this on his own, but she felt bad that he wasn't seeking out any kind of help.

"I can't believe he had the nerve to try and follow us," Sara mentioned quietly, trying to change the topic at hand.

"I can," Greg laughed softly. "He must be getting a lot of money for this to be that dedicated."

"Or he enjoys his work far too much," Sara added on, a chuckle of her own slipping past her lips.

"It actually might be helpful," Greg reasoned, watching as the light suddenly went off. He sat up, straining to see what he could, as though it would actually help him. "I'm going to check this out…"

"Are you crazy?" Sara shook her head, watching him go. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"I'll be fine," he argued, sitting down along the edge to hang his feet over. "I know what I'm doing…"

She was quick to follow, frowning when he told her to stay put. It was senseless for the both of them to go, yes, but it was hard to believe that Greg was the one giving orders. The last time she checked, Grissom had put her in charge. Now it was the complete opposite way.

Letting out a growl she sat back on her haunches, shaking her head. "You had better be right Greg." She had said it firmly, trying to keep her nerves calm. They were anything but.

* * *

Greg was never really sure where he was going. He only knew on basic direction, and had hoped that he would be able to find his way. The one thing he did notice on the ground that he had not while up higher, was the steady glow off in the distance, the light smoke trail hanging up in the air.

That meant that Mckinely must have settled down for the night. But it did not mean he was asleep. Greg slowed his steps as he neared, moving to crouch against the ground. From here he could see the man, who was lying flat on the ground, a cap covering his face. That alone made it difficult for Greg to judge if he was actually asleep or not.

It would be hard for Greg to believe that he fell asleep so quickly. It had taken him a good twenty minutes alone to get down here, and taking into the count Mckinely had to set up camp first, and then proceed to fall asleep…

In the end Greg decided it would be better to wait. He knew Sara would worry, but it was safer to wait than to press his luck. If Mckinely had come all the way out here, than surely he had brought supplies. Greg could only wet his lips as he thought over what. Surely water, and some basic food. That alone would keep them alive long enough to find their way out, or at the very least, help.

He sat there for the longest time, ignoring the stiffness in his knees, the ache in his back. Still he was afraid to move. There was no doubt in Greg's mind that Mckinely was armed, and the chances of him outrunning a second round of stray bullets were more than low. Especially at this range.

It wasn't until the fire had burned down next to nothing, the coals still glowing gently, that Greg made his first move. One step, then another, trying to shake off the numbness that had crept up on him. The man did not stir.

He had spotted it a while back, while surveying the scene in his hidden position. There was a backpack near the makeshift fire pit, still unzipped. Greg crouched down, staying far away as possible as he reached out and wrapped his fingers around one of the straps, carefully pulling the bag near him.

Greg paused as Mckinely shifted in his sleep, the man muttering something of incoherent stature. It wasn't until he fell silent again that Greg dared to let out the breath he was holding, his attention turning back to examine the bag.

His speculations had been correct. The bag was packed with water bottles, wrapped food, most of which were protein bars. There was also more, stuffed way down at the bottom but Greg didn't waste the time in looking. It would just be best if he headed back now, get away from the potential danger.

However it made Greg feel guilty. Even if the man was trying to kill them, Greg would be delivering the same state if he just took off with all the supplies. For a moment Greg had actually considered it, had actually considered just leaving. But even if Mckinely deserved it, he wasn't able to. With a resentful sigh Greg pulled out a single water bottle, a handful of protein bars, placing them on the ground next to the pit. It would be up to the man after that.

Turning to leave though he had to pause once more. The flashlight was still up near Mckinely. Greg knew that it could be valuable, he and Sara had needed the use of one several times before, and that wouldn't change anytime soon. At the same time he wondered if it was worth the risk.

He set the bag on the ground, deciding then that it was a necessary risk. After all, if Mckinely hadn't woken up yet, what was a few more seconds? Greg could be in and out within that time frame, and in the end, be much more prepared.

Still he wasn't reckless. Greg moved quietly, carefully placing each step. The flashlight was up near his head, where Mckinely was snoring softly, his head resting on a rolled up sweatshirt. Grasping the item firmly Greg was moving away when he saw the gun. It was resting on the man's chest, fingers wrapped lightly around it.

For a moment Greg considered it, before shaking his head. It was too risky, even if the man was hunting him down. When he woke up with limited supplies, he would head back. And if they were careful, they would be able to follow at a safe distance. The situation itself was almost cleared up.

It was then Greg heard him moving, the noise breaking him from his thoughts. Mckinely was doing more than just rolling over his sleep, instead he was muttering quietly, reaching up to pull the cap off his face. He froze in his spot, but it didn't do much as the man opened his eyes, his gaze landing right on Greg who was mere inches from his face.

**TBC**


	11. Rising Emotions

**Chapter Eleven: Rising Emotions **

Greg couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The only thought that rested with him now was regret, staring into the eyes of the very man that wanted them dead. He was inches away, with no hopes of escaping. A gunshot at this range would do more than just kill. And what of Sara? She would hear the shot, and then what? Come running down and soon would meet her fate in the end. All because of his stupidity.

There was always one more thing he had to do, one more thing he had to try, always pressing his luck. Now he was not only risking his life, but Sara's as well. What Greg didn't expect, out of everything, was the content sigh that escaped the man's lips. He watched curiously, afraid to breathe even, as the officer's eyes drifted close, as though never truly awake.

Was it a trap? Greg waited a moment longer before daring to test fate. He took a step back, and then another, the flashlight still clutched in his hand. It would serve as a useless weapon against a gun, but it at least was more than nothing. Mckinely didn't even stir as Greg continued to back up, now a good length away. He didn't waste any more time.

In one quick, yet quiet motion, he threw the backpack over his shoulder, making his way out of the clearing. He needed to get back to Sara, and they needed to get out of here soon. The more time Mckinely spent sleeping, the more time they had to put some distance between them. For half a second Greg considered the option of hanging around, following the officer's lead in the morning, but forgot about it soon after.

Sara was asleep when he returned; curled into a ball on the ground, head resting on her arm. Obviously she hadn't been too worried about him. Greg let a smile tug at his lips as he sat down, the pack now resting in his lap. He watched her sleep a moment longer, before reaching over to wake her gently.

Greg loved watching her sleep, the past night he had spent observing her more than his surroundings. She seemed so content, so peaceful, the pale moonlight somehow enhancing her already flawless features. He of course would never tell her that, simply embarrassed by even thinking it.

It took a few tries, but she woke up hurriedly soon after. Greg had to reassure her that everything was fine as she blinked a few times, pushing herself up on her knees. They needed to be heading out, but they also needed food, and water. Both of which Greg was happy to supply.

The water was warm, but he wasn't concerned, taking care to sip on it leisurely as Sara nearly drained the bottle in one drink. "Take it easy," he warned, taking another small mouthful as he did so. "This is all we have for now."

"Sorry," she breathed, recapping the nearly empty bottle now. "I've just been so thirsty…" she let out another breath, sinking back onto the ground as she closed her eyes. "That and I'm so tired. I didn't think that I was this out of shape."

Despite the situation Greg laughed. He tossed a protein bar towards her, watching as it scattered across the rocky surface before coming to a stop near her hair. She groped for it with one hand as he pulled one out for him, relishing in the first bite he had in nearly two days.

They ate in silence, the pair somehow able to resist the urgent need to scarf down everything in sight. Greg knew it would only cause them to be sick; that and the fact they didn't know how long it would actually be until they would get more. It was better to go slow, eat only what was necessary.

As he took another bite Greg continued to dig through the bag, pulling out the odds and ends that were found inside. A book of matches, a pocket-sized first aid kit, extra batteries.

"Ammo," Greg remarked between bites, pulling out the cartridges. "He thought of everything."

"Where's the gun?" Sara asked softly, watching him with a worried gaze.

He didn't answer, didn't have to, as he glanced through some of the other pockets. Sara pushed herself up, swallowing her last bite. "He still has it? You managed to take everything else, but left him the gun? Nice one Greg."

"I wasn't exactly going to wrestle a mad man for a gun," he spat out, obviously irritated now. She was the one who hadn't wanted him to go in the first place. Besides, he wasn't going to explain his close call. What did she expect him to do?

"Of course not," she griped, pressing a hand to her head. "You're just going to let him run around the forest armed."

"That's why we need to get going tonight," he agreed, cutting her off. "The sooner the better."

"No," she shook her head vividly. "You haven't had any sleep, and I don't even feel like moving, much less walking anywhere."

"Fine then," he frowned, already moving to close the backpack up. "You stay here."

He didn't stay to watch the reaction on her face, clicking the flashlight on as he worked his way down the hill. With a light source he was able to find a much easier way down, one that was quicker too. Sara was only a few steps behind him, but he made no move to speak with her, nor did he slow his pace to match hers.

He was tired of the accusations, of the blame. Sara had been doing nothing since they left for the trip. He had been the one to get them lost, the one to who was interacting more than necessary with the lab techs, the one who got them into this mess. It seemed the only way Sara was ever happy was when he took the fall for everything. And he was getting tired of it.

"Greg," she called his name patiently, working even harder to keep up with him as Greg sped up. He wasn't intentionally trying to loose her, no, but he wanted her to take the hint that he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. The situation of course, wasn't helping.

The path had narrowed, running along a steep grade. Greg had moved away from the edge, hugging the hill that ran upwards, carefully placing his steps, only hoping that Sara was following his lead. Part of him wanted to check on her, but he quickly remembered his pride, and kept his gaze forward, his eyes only moving to examine the forest floor beneath them before taking each step.

It was then Sara reached up, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and slow his outrageous pace, the words leaving her mouth at the same time. He didn't want to listen, didn't want to hear, so instead he pulled away. If Greg had time to think of the situation, if he hadn't been so haughty, so proud, then maybe it wouldn't have happened. All he knew next was the fact that there was no longer ground underneath him.

* * *

Who exactly was running the case wasn't clear. Catherine and Nick had spent nearly ten hours collecting and processing evidence at the scene, only to return to the lab to find out that the nightshift there had taken it over. 

Nick had quickly diverted the situation, offering to pick up some coffee from a nearby stand. Catherine had agreed, even though she wasn't very hungry. A lone finger tapped on the table while she waited. Accommodations were offered, the crime lab offering a cheap hotel down the street for the pair to rest, but the blonde wouldn't be warded off so easily.

It had taken her nearly an hour to convince the receptionist she needed to speak with the supervisor in charge. Nearly another hour had passed, and she was still waiting. She had spoken with Nick only fifteen minutes ago, who had claimed to be on his way back, but Catherine had her doubts.

Her fingers drummed endlessly on the table as she stared into open space, knowing that with each passing moment meant less of a chance of finding Greg and Sara. Catherine wanted answers. She wanted to know why the case was being handed over, most certainly after she and Nick had flown all the way out here. She also wanted to know why they hadn't been informed of this before. Mostly, she wanted to know why a search team hadn't been called in.

She alone wasn't authorized to start a search and rescue. Catherine knew the proper procedures, the guidelines, and the involvement. At the same time it wasn't enough. And now she had to sit here and wait for answers that seemed as though they would never come.

Catherine stood up expectantly as the door to the break room opened, the man shaking her hand in quick greeting. "Scott Stevenson, I was told you were looking for me?"

"For a while now," she answered coldly, letting go of his hand at the same time. "I'd like an explanation."

"There's really no need to explain anything," he stated quietly, provoking a short laugh from the woman.

"We came out here at a moments notice on our own time, spent our own time processes a scene, taking statements, and within mere minutes a decision is made to hand the case over. A decision, might I add, that was made without the consent of either me or my colleague."

"That was before you made one of our guys a suspect Miss Willows. When it becomes personal, we get personal. Robin Mckinely is one of our finest officers. He's worked the force for almost ten years now. I can assure you that he's had no involvement with this crime."

"I can assure you the same about Sara and Greg. For one, they're close friends, and they wouldn't turn on one another. Secondly Greg's never handled a gun in his life, and to all the sudden be able to use one so liberally without any training seems unreal."

"With all due respect it doesn't take training to pull a trigger," Scott countered her. "His poor accuracy would suggest his lack in expertise. But a fool with a gun is still a madman, and he's taken someone hostage. I'm just thankful it wasn't Robin."

"You've come to that conclusion already? Within two hours. I thought our crime lab was fast."

"We don't need all the evidence to tell us the story; we take into account simple facts. If Mckinely was the culprit of this then why did he end up wounded?"

"If Greg was the one to blame then why did we find Sara's gun, the same gun Greg supposedly used to kidnap her, a matter of feet away from the initial scene, with only two sets of prints on it?"

"Robin could have easily mixed guns up," Scott offered up.

"Greg's prints showed up on Mckinely's gun. Not Sara's."

"It's still a gun," he pointed out coldly.

"There's a difference in his story. So why don't we call him up to compare the evidence to his word. Oh, that's right, he's unavailable."

"Robin Mckinely is on administrative leave, as well as medical rest."

"He's a suspect in an ongoing crime," Catherine argued with him.

"As far as I'm concerned his name is cleared. You want to argue that fact, file a complaint. I'm just sorry it won't begoing anywhere."

"Two of our people are involved, like it or not," Catherine stood up to him, "We are still running this case. Where did Greg and Sara stay?"

"Last night?"

She frowned, resisting the urge to smack them upside the head. Her look was enough as he rolled his eyes, already leaving the room. "I'll have it checked out, but as far as I'm concerned all you are doing is collecting evidence. Anything you process will be considered contaminated, and thrown out."

She felt like screaming, a vibrant line of blasphemy running through her head as she tried to control her anger. Catherine was normally the one in charge, the one who always took the lead. Now she was on the backburner, having to watch stranger run a case that could very well affect the lives of her friends. And she wasn't going to sit back and watch any longer.

**TBC**


	12. A Coming Day

**Chapter Twelve: A Coming Day**

With a frown Sara prodded the dark bruise as gently as she could, running her fingers over the swollen flesh. "Does it hurt?"

Greg was already wincing, pulling back from her with a short grumble. "When you do that, yes." He flexed his own hand, regretting it as he did so. With a final sigh of resentment he cradled the injured limb in his lap, weakly curling his fingers into a fist. It hurt…but at least he could move them.

"You think it's broken," Sara asked, nodding to his swollen wrist as she sat back on her haunches. She was still nervous, jumpy from the incident before. Greg had lost his footing, sending him head first down the steep incline.

Lucky for him he had caught a tree only five feet into the fall. Or rather put, the tree had caught him. It had looked painful, and the small cry that had escaped his lips suggested just as much. But compared to what the final result could be, no one could complain.

It had taken Greg nearly ten minutes to climb back up the few short feet, even with Sara's help. It was clear that he was sore, but her main concern was focused on his wrist now, one that was quickly bruising.

At her words he took another look, flexing it once more. "No…" he whispered with a sharp gulp of air, before looking back up at her. "Sprained more in likely. Sort of hoping that I just jammed it real bad…but I probably sprained it. Definitely not broken though."

"You a doctor now?" Sara asked, slightly amused as she watched, half afraid to reach out and touch him again.

"Just experienced," he replied, running his own fingers over the swollen flesh carefully.

"Let me guess," Sara wondered casually, "Surfing, hang-gliding, sky-diving…"

"Falling down the stairs," Greg cut in quickly, smiling when she started to laugh.

"Figures…" she laughed, a grin covering her face. "All these death-defying stunts and you nearly take yourself out on something simple."

Greg laughed, not about to miss the opportunity. "I swear, those stairs came out of nowhere…they were even harder to see blindfolded."

"Why exactly were you blindfolded?" Sara asked quizzically, slight mirth playing to her voice.

Greg let out a nervous chuckle, running his opposite hand over his face as he gave his muffled reply. "College…"

It was all she needed, and Sara nodded in understanding. There was nothing possible that could explain what happened during those years. She brushed back her hair, eyeing him carefully. She had been scared…beyond scared…and she felt responsible.

"Greg…I'm sorry," she was going to apologize, going to take all the blame. Greg had done nothing but try and to help, always trying to look on the bright side, always putting himself at risk for their own survival. She was no longer the leader, but the follower…

"It's no one's fault Sara," he cut her off. It wasn't surprising; Greg was too kind-hearted to let anyone take the blame for anything. He had been the same way after the lab explosion, when she tried to apologize for not visiting him. It was the same response after he had failed his first proficiency, the same after she had turned him down on their dinner plans. To him, no one could do any wrong.

Either he was the one to blame, or no one was. Greg wouldn't have it any other way. At the same time Sara wasn't going to back down that willingly. She knew she had crossed the line; she had crossed it days ago. Greg had been patient with her, but finally it had been enough.

Sara had only seen Greg irate a handful of times in all the years she knew him. It was one of the reasons why she enjoyed his company so much. She could drive the most painful dagger into his side, snap at him with cruel, unfeeling words, and the man would forget it almost as soon as it happened.

But this time…this time the dagger was too deep, to tightly imbedded into his skin. She had been unnecessarily cruel, spouting off words without thought. And she needed to fix it, needed to set things straight.

"Greg…I didn't mean any of what I said…"

"I know that Sara," he cut her off again, ignoring the impatient sigh from her lips. How was she ever going to set things straight if he wouldn't even let her talk?

He continued with a breath. "We all say things…they're just words. They don't have any meaning behind them. Actions however…" he winced as he stretched his arm, rubbing his shoulder that was sure to bruise.

"I'm sorry for that too," Sara told him quietly. She knew better than to try and intervene when Greg was mad. Knew that it only pushed him further away. Apparently she hadn't learned well enough.

Greg was shaking his head however, "If I hadn't been so hot-headed it wouldn't have happened. He timidly massaged his swollen wrist, flinching at the slight pain. "I'm just lucky it wasn't any worse."

His voice had trailed off, but Sara followed his gaze down the hillside, grimacing at the note-worthy drop. Greg had been lucky…very lucky indeed. "Do you want to stay here for a bit?"

Greg shook his head, and she was going to protest, but stopped herself. It was, after all, Greg's decision. Sara held out her hand as she stood, motioning for the backpack. At first Greg hesitated, then handed it over without complaint, shortly before pulling out the water bottle, and taking several sips before passing it on to Sara, who followed his lead.

The sun was starting to rise over the hills, marking the start of their third day. It made Sara wonder exactly how much more they could handle before…she shook her head quickly. She would not think that way, she just wouldn't allow it.

* * *

Catherine had wandered the halls for nearly fifteen minutes before getting an opportunity to duck into the smaller room. The Oregon DNA tech had been busy for quite some time, filling out forms, printing reports, running samples. People were constantly in and out, dropping off new stuff, collecting old stuff.

Catherine could have easily wandered in at any time. But with Scott hot on her trail it made it hard, anyone was sure to report her if the blonde was poking around in business that was not her own.

Mikayla looked up as she closed the door behind her, frowning as the other woman drew the shades. Catherine needed only a few minutes, if the lab tech was going to cooperate, that was. If anyone saw her in here they would report her, for certain. Hell, the girl herself would most likely, it could get both Catherine and Nick kicked off the case. It was, however, a necessary risk. The last thing Catherine was going to do was sit around and watch her friends die somewhere out in the wilderness.

"You have the DNA results from the Nicklios case?"

She nodded, her gaze still focused on her. "Yes…but I'm not allowed to release them to you."

"You had three samples of blood," Catherine continued, vaguely ignoring her protests. "Blood pool, blood spatter, blood droplets. Three different sources. Blood consistency told us that. Now give."

Mikayla let out a nervous sigh, risking a quick glance at the door before lowering her voice. "Three different blood sources, yes. Officer Mckinely was the spatter, Sara Sidle was the droplets, and the blood pool came back unknown, but it's not human."

"Perfect blood pool, no body, animal's blood. Sounds staged to me. Was there any other responding officer?" Catherine demanded quietly.

"As far as I know Mckinely was the only one, both days. It's in his area, so that's not suspicious."

Catherine shook her head slightly, hanging onto the table. "We pulled bullets from all over that scene. The way Mckinely described it, made it sound as though it was a war zone. But we collected them all from one main direction. Away from the officer's stated position. That doesn't make any sense if it was a hostage situation."

"Look," Mikayla said fiercely, keeping her voice low. "I can't help you; I have orders from my supervisor. I don't want to seem crude, but I can't lose my job over this. I can tell you one thing though."

She paused for a breath here, but continued soon enough. "I don't think Greg did this. I barely know the man, but he was…easy going. I don't know how else to describe it. Sara seemed like she was the one running the show, I hardly doubt things would change."

"I know them a lot better than you do," Catherine agreed, "And I know Greg couldn't. I just need a way to prove it now."

"Darrin Jones, he's our video analysis specialist, he's known Robin for years, since high school almost. If something's going on, he might know…"

"Thank you," Catherine told her earnestly, already backing up to leave. It was Mikayla that stopped her, voicing her own concern.

"Find them…both of them."

**TBC**


	13. Moving On

**Sorry for the long wait in-between posts, it turns out I can't write unless my muse is around. So massive thanks to Jenny for getting this one going again!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Moving on**

The atmosphere was most definitely dreary, the quiet pair sitting in the back of the restaurants having hardly touched either their drinks or meals. Catherine pushed her plate to one side, allowing herself more room in which she could place the pad down on the hard surface, jotting down a few last notes before turning back to the first page.

Nick stared blankly ahead, faintly ignoring the blonde's work. He hadn't been in much the mood to eat either, but Catherine insisted that they needed to go somewhere they could talk, and since they were staying in separate hotel rooms, the restaurant was the only place open this early in the morning. However they could not stay unless they ordered something.

So while their food grew cold they had discussed quietly their options. Grissom had already informed to the hang around while he and Brass tried to negotiate the Oregon Crime Lab to allow the two CSI's back in the investigation. It was difficult though, and hardly likely that it would happen. They had no jurisdiction over this case.

Catherine, meanwhile, had gone through her own sources. They did not have all the details of the case, but with the notes she had found in Greg and Sara's hotel room, along with the information given to them by Mikayla and Darrin, they had gotten off to a decent start.

"Apparently our officer friend is having a hard time with a current marriage. He and his wife are going through what sounds like a bitter divorce. He's losing a lot of money apparently, and visitation rights for his kids."

She paused, waiting for Nick to say something, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. She frowned lightly, but continued, flipping to the next page. After all, she knew the Texan well enough, he deserved some credit.

"Greg and Sara documented the body already, noting a few key contraindicating components in comparison with the first case. So we're probably looking at a copy cat. The blood pool was a set up. But why would someone do that?"

She waited again, but with no answer she frowned again, this time deeper. "Nick?"

The Texan barely looked at her before turning away, his expression still grim. "They were setting a trap."

"Why?" Catherine wondered quietly, raising a single eye brow.

"To catch something."

"What exactly?"

Nick was still frowning, watching her sadly. "In order to know what the prey is you have to first figure out what the bait is."

She waited, but when he didn't continue she let out a sigh. Sometimes talking with the Texan was next to impossible. "What is the bait then?"

"The body."

* * *

Realization struck slowly. His head felt as though it was weighed down with a thousand weights, and his body barely registered the commands given by his brain. His movements were slow, and sluggish, as though he was hung-over without even first drinking.

There was a bitterly foul taste in his mouth, and on his lips as he risked opening his eyes an inch, frowning as the intense sun burned into his eyes. Obviously that had been a bad idea. He closed them again, taking in a deep breath before opening them once more, this time using caution.

He realized that part of the reason he couldn't get up was the simple that Sara was fast asleep, her head resting against his chest. Greg honestly never remembered even falling asleep, or moving under the small tree that offered a glimpse of shade. He wet his dry lips, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to recall the last conscious thoughts.

Sara moved ever so slightly, raising her heads at the slight movements underneath her, her eyes blinking as they slowly focused. Pushing herself up she pushed the hair from her eyes, moving closer to his face. "Greg?"

He frowned, not moving even when her warm breath brushed against his cheek. "Sara?"

"You're awake," She replied numbly, pressing one of her hands against his forehead.

"When did we fall asleep?" he asked in return, ignoring her previous question.

"You passed out," she closed her eyes, sitting up fully this time as she rubbed them with the back of her hand. "You've been out for hours now."

Letting out a sigh his eyes drifted shut again. That would be the reason he felt so horrid. Even now his stomach was churning, threatening to empty itself of the protein bars and sips of water he had taken earlier that day.

"You should drink some water," he heard Sara's suggestion quietly, but shook his head immediately after, his stomach protesting more against the sudden movement. The thought of drinking anything, let alone having to move in order to drink nauseated him beyond all thought.

Seconds later he found himself on his side as his stomach violently protested. Sara's hands were on his shoulders as he emptied the bitter contents onto the ground, gasping for the much needed air in-between heaves.

Slowly Sara coaxed him into a sitting position shortly after making certain that was all he had left. Greg didn't protests as she pressed the half-emptied container into his hand, motioning for him to drink. He started to protest, after all it was all the water they had left, and he didn't want to drink it just to throw it back up.

"You need something in you," she shook her head as he opened his mouth. "We're staying here until you have some."

"I'm not drinking it all," he warned, knowing that the precious lifeline was their last hope.

He took the few sips that would please her, cringing slightly at the warm taste. At least it was something, and he was grateful that his stomach did not protest. He was starting to feel better now, but still lightheaded, the ground turning at his feet and he squeezed his eyes shut in meager attempt to block it out.

"We'll stay here a little longer," Sara started, but Greg was already shaking his head.

"We need to keep moving."

"Greg, you'll kill yourself if you don't get some rest," Sara protested, once again unable to finish due to his interruption.

"If we stay here we will die anyways. Sara…it's been four days; you know that most searches are called off within three, within a week at the most. No one is looking for us, we don't have any more food, and this is all the water we have left. We need to keep on moving."

She sat uncomfortably here for a moment, considering what he had said. Sara knew that he was right, in some ways, but also could not even began to comprehend the thought of forcing Greg to his feet and having him walk in dry heat. He was already exhausted, pale at a first glance, and clearly out of breath from just sitting there.

"Greg…I don't think…"

Her half-stated plea fell on deaf ears as Greg pushed himself to his feet, wobbling once he was up, quickly trying to gain his balance. She was at his side in an instant, and though he accepted her offering of help, he would not allow her to sit him back down. Once he was sure that he was secure, Greg pulled the backpack on, sliding the water bottle back inside shortly before hand.

"Just promise me, if we're going to do this, let me know if you need to rest," Sara warned him, setting out on a nice, slow, pace. Greg barely nodded, wanting to go a bit faster, but not daring to even try.

His throat was sore, and his skin burned, his head felt as though it was filled with cotton. Each step he took felt as though a battle was being fought, and his body was taking the toll. It was no more than ten minutes when the came to another stop, Greg once again refusing the offering of water, even though it sounded beyond wonderful. If they were going to make it out of here, he had to be strong. Sara needed him to be strong; Greg knew that if he didn't continue on, there was no way Sara would either.

"You should get some sleep," Sara told him, taking a seat next to him.

"I already have," Greg pointed out mildly, wondering if she would even listen. "Or did you forget that I've spent half the day on the ground?"

"Passing out doesn't count as resting," she warned him sternly, her expression alone drawing a laugh from him.

"I can rest when I'm dead."

She did respond this time, and Greg turned to match her unsettling gaze. He let out an apologetic smile, reaching out to grasp her hand. "I'm sorry," he told her, giving her a quick squeeze. "We'll get out of this; just hang in there a little longer."

"You seem so certain," Sara stated, wondering how he could come up with such a notion considering the state he was in. She herself had already begun to feel the effects of the elements, the lack of sleep, of shelter, of food and water. By technical standards they should already be dead, but by a small misfortune, their would-be-killer had bought them a few extra days of life.

"I know so," he whispered quietly, his words nearly lost on the wind as a storm began to brew.

**TBC**


	14. Falling Down

**Hey! Remember this story? Anyone? Anyone at all? Huh, me neither :D**

**Thanks goes out to Jenny for help with this!**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Falling Down**

It had been a heavy workload for the thinly staffed night crew of the Las Vegas Crime Lab ever since Greg and Sara had left. Since their disappearance, and the aid of Catherine and Nick, it left only two people to handle the entire shift. And at this point in time, it wasn't working out very well.

Warrick was exhausted, and Grissom knew that he was, mainly because he himself was beyond exhausted as well. Juggling three cases, working through breaks with enough time off in between shifts to shower, eat and catch a few hours of sleep before repeating the entire process once again was just not working out.

Hiding a yawn the aging supervisor poured himself a cup of coffee, desperately missing the tantalizing flavor of the youngest CSI's infamous blend. At this point its location was unknown, but with some exploration it would soon be found. It was a disconcerting thought at this point.

Grissom had never thought that he would actually miss the quirky lab tech…former lab tech, he reminded himself quietly. Greg had proven himself over more than enough times. He knew the man was capable of almost any challenge, and that he exceeded expectations on an occasional basis. So why then was there still doubt lingering in the scientist's mind?

Of course, being with Sara the man should have even a better chance. Sara and Greg's teamwork skills were beyond average, up to almost outstanding. Not only did they get along well, but where one weakness fell, the other's strength filled in. This situation then, would be nothing more than the same; wouldn't it?

Letting out a sadden breath he finished his cup, moving back into his office. He had yet to hear from Catherine or Nick since that first night, but he knew either would call with immediate updates if something new came along. Part of him longed for the call, wanting to hear that the two had been found; petty details could be figured out later. Grissom hadn't believed any part of the story.

Greg was gentle, and even-tempered. He had yet to see the youth angry, or irrational. Sure Greg had been frustrated from time to time, but that was a small display of emotion compared to how others acted. No…Greg would never hurt anyone, least of all Sara.

Not only that, but Sara wouldn't have anything to do with it either. Grissom knew about her past, knew what she went through, the issues she still dealt with. He had seen Sara become violent on an occasional basis, having to hold her back from suspects, and separating her from another member of the team every so often. She was, obviously, much calmer now than she had been in the past. Even still, she would not succumb to anyone's demands. Plus the fact Grissom hardly believed that Greg would indeed be able to wrestle control away from Sara in the first place.

With the ringing of the phone going off in one ear he closed his eyes, half deciding not to answer it. He wanted the update, but sometimes no news was the best option. With a sigh he reached over, picking it up on the third ring. After all, he wasn't certain who it was.

"The first victim's COD was strangulation, correct?"

Grissom frowned, already sorting through the folders on the desk. "I thought you were there to find Sara and Greg," he responded instead as his fingers came in contact with the folder he was looking for.

"Trust me, I'm going somewhere with this," Catherine replied mildly. "Well?"

"COD was strangulation," Grissom nodded. "But how does this help?"

"The second victim bled out. Two puncture wounds to the chest. The swim suit hid the original wounds, so Greg and Sara wouldn't have seen that until a full autopsy was preformed. The second body then was a decoy. Someone somehow got a hold of the case Greg and Sara were working on, and recreated it."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?"

She let out a prolonged sigh. "Just listen to me. Nothing is matching up except for the position of the bodies. Everything else is just a cheap imitation. Plus take in the fact the responding officer that gave his statement has disappeared. Nick was able to pull his phone records; Mckinely has been contacting someone in the Las Vegas area."

"Have you told anyone at the Oregon Crime Lab this?" Grissom wondered.

"We've tried, but no one's listening. I'm going to give you the number, find out who it belongs to. Number just forwards us to an automated voice mail. Have Archie try and isolate it, will you?"

"This is out of my hands Catherine," Grissom reminded her. "If I interfere with the case at all, it'll never make it to court."

"I don't care if it goes to court," she spat at him wearily. "Right now I want to find Greg and Sara, and to do that we need to know what we are up against."

"So you haven't found them yet?"

"Sure we have," she remarked sarcastically, "They're sitting right here behind me."

"That is uncalled for, you know," he reminded her, scowling as she ignored his response and instead rattled the number off. He would personally like to see the case go to court, take down whoever was responsible, but at the same time he knew that Catherine was right. With a final few words he set the phone back down, moving to his feet as he made his way out into the hall. He couldn't only hope that Catherine wasn't getting herself into more trouble than necessary.

* * *

Sara ran her fingers through her tangled hair, letting out a slight shiver as she moved her arms around her torso once more. The small drops of rain hit her face, stinging it gently as she followed behind Greg. He didn't seem to mind the weather, or if he did he had yet to say anything.

Their pace had been much slower than it had on any of the other days. They were both drained, and not just physically. She was fearful of another repeat of this morning, and made a point of traveling slowly. Sara wasn't sure if she could handle another episode. When Greg had passed out the first time she was afraid that may not wake up. She could still hear his chilling words from before, and even though she had promised, Sara knew that it was something she couldn't carry out.

Ahead of her Greg had slowed down even more, and it wasn't until she was standing next to him that she noticed he had stopped completely. For a moment she watched him questioningly, and then frowned as he squatted, fingers encircling an empty water bottle.

"What are you thinking?"

She had asked the question after several long minutes of silence, watching as Greg turned the bottle over in his hand. On the ground next to where the bottle had been was a handful of wrappers, and he grasped them in his fingers as well.

"They're not ours," Greg remarked quietly, his gaze shifting from the ground to the trails that were ahead. "It has to be our Officer…it's the same brand and everything."

"They could be months old Greg," Sara told him softly. She didn't want to dash all their hopes, but neither did she want to raise them falsely.

There wasn't anything he could say against that. Expiration dates were of no use, not with protein bars and bottled water. He let out a sigh, crumbling them in his hands. He was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and miserable. But at least he was alive.

"I still say it's from Mckinely. He had to have some sort of compass or something…" He closed his eyes, letting himself rest for a moment. "We should follow this trail, see where it leads."

"How do you know that's going to take us somewhere?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" Greg snapped at her, cursing lightly under his breath. "I'm sorry…I'm just…I don't know what else to do."

"You're right," Sara told him, not wanting him to feel out of place. She knew that Greg was only trying to help, and who was she to judge him? "We'll give it a try."

"But you don't trust me," Greg moved to his feet, letting out a sigh. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as though he was the walking dead himself. She cringed, wondering if she mirrored those same features in herself.

"I do…it's just…"

"Then you choose," he stated firmly, crossing his arms.

"Greg…don't start," she pleaded with him, trying to calm him down. She knew he was irritated; she herself was riding on thin patience. But fighting now would help neither of them. "I do trust you, I'm just trying to keep other options in my mind."

"I know," Greg groaned inwardly, rubbing his forehead. "I just don't think I can do this anymore."

He had turned bitter, his gaze drifting down as he bit his lip. There was a slight tremble in his hand as Sara grasped it, holding it in her own warm fingers. For a moment they stood there like that, but Greg still refused to meet her gaze, so she took a step closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso as she pulled him into a gentle embrace.

Sara was grateful when he returned it, just standing their for a moment, imagining what it would be like if they were truly together as she had fantasized. She blushed at first, scolding herself mentally, but then she realized that this may be the final time to say any last regrets.

"Greg…" she let out a sigh pulling back. She was going to finish talking, going to say something, but he just shook his head.

"Not now, we need to keep moving."

She was going to protest, but didn't have much time, realizing only then that Greg still had a hold of her hand. She fell into step behind him easily, smiling slyly at the small anticipation. Even if it was only for a brief moment, she could pretend.

It was a good thing he was holding her hand still, it being the only thing that kept her from falling as the sharp pain worked its way up her leg. She had actually stumbled, and nearly pulled Greg down with her. With his help he was able to steady her, or at least get her to the ground in one piece.

"What happened?"

She shook her head, entirely unaware herself to as why her leg was suddenly going numb, and yet at the same time swelling with pain. She gritted her teeth, letting out a sigh as she grasped the leg of her pant, pulling it up to reveal the already swelling skin below.

"I think…maybe a sprain…or something…." She breathed, closing her eyes in a vague attempt to block out the pain.

She could feel his fingers on her skin, and she flinched in pain, not even hearing his quiet apologies as he continued to explore.

"It's a bite," he remarked quietly, looking back up at her. Sara managed to crack one eye open, watching him questioningly. Looking down again she could see the blood flowing freely, wincing as Greg wiped away the crimson fluid to reveal the two tiny puncture wounds.

"It….can't be that bad, can it?" she wondered, asking herself more than she was Greg, but the man answered anyways with a short shake of his head.

"I don't know, but we shouldn't waste any time."

He was already on his feet, offering a hand to her, and she glared at him in response. Did he actually expect her to walk like this?

"Greg…"

She let out a yelp of surprise as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet. She balanced easily on her one leg, holding the other in the air as she glared at him. "What are you trying to do?"

"We can't stay," he told her firmly, still holding onto her. "Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?"

"I'll walk," she muttered quietly, placing her foot down on the ground tentatively. She winced in pain as she put more weight on it, but was able to manage a small hobble. Greg was no longer holding onto her, but following behind at a close distance, watching with mild distaste. At this rate they would never get out of here, but Sara was determined enough.

Nervously he glanced behind him, checking in among the rocks for any sign of the animal that could be the culprit. He would assume snake at his first thought, but at the same time he didn't know if there were any around in this area. What else would it be then, if not a snake? Whatever the case, it wasn't of importance, at least not at the moment. What was important was the fact they needed to get out of here…and soon.

**TBC**


	15. Conclusions

**Chapter Fifteen: Conclusions**

"Willows."

Catherine glanced up as the man came, hardly raising an eyebrow in invitation. Instead she brought the cup to her lips, draining the rest of the liquid that remained there. It was her fourth cup in under an hour, and at this point in time the only thing that was keeping her going. "What can I do for you?"

The supervisor frowned, arms folding as he dropped the paper on the table in front of her. "I just received this fax from the LV Crime Lab. Phone record confirmations? I thought we agreed that the case was off limits for you and your partners."

Mentally Catherine cursed Grissom for doing such a thing. Of course he didn't know exact details, but still she would have though he had enough sense not to fax them straight over. She forced a smile, one that was more smug than apologetic. "Actually, Mr. Stevenson, it was you who decided that for us. And to make it clear, you stated that neither I nor Nick could work on the investigation. You said nothing about those back in Vegas. Thirdly, the case is now back on our own turf, if you check the call records. Therefore it is still within our jurisdiction."

He wanted to respond with a rebuff, but was unable, knowing that she hit around all the corner without directly stepping inside. He was angry, yes, but he would let it pass for now. With a breath he sat down across from her, arms resting on the table. "I need you're help."

She blinked, thoroughly surprised. "You wanted to chase us away, trying to scare us with petty threats, and now you want our help?"

There wasn't a response; it wasn't like she was expecting one. Instead he placed the folder on the table, opening it as he slid it forward for her to see. "Number's a disposable Cell Phone…it's untraceable."

"You want me to find out who it is," Catherine said mildly. "How do you propose I do that?"

"Robin was found wandering the side roads nearly an hour ago, without explanation to his whereabouts for the last forty-eight hours. They're bringing him into interrogation now for questioning."

"I thought Robin was cleared from the list of suspects," she replied mockingly. She could see him shift uncomfortably.

"After following the evidence," he stated quietly, "We knew something was off. Still, Robin could have simply misinterpreted things. In stressful situations, it's easy to do."

"What about the search?"

"We have two teams out looking for them as we speak," Scott told her with a nod. "They'll contact as soon as they find something."

Frowning Catherine crossed her arms. She hadn't particularly liked the response. Seeing how Scott already had a distaste for both her friends, she had to wonder if they truly were looking, or if he was just stating this fact in order to gain one of his own wants. If she had her own way she would be well out in the forest searching for them.

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

It was taking too long. Yet at the same time could he really ask more of her? With each determined step Sara winced, holding back a short cry of pain. It was slow, and nearly heartbreaking for Greg to watch. He offered whatever help he could, but it was Sara who constantly put him off, determined to do it all on her own.

The bleeding had nearly stopped; it was about the only thing Greg could be thankful for. His worry was evident, and it was starting to push Sara over the edge. Yet it wasn't entirely her fault. She never had someone care for her like this before. When he moved to help her again she moved to push him away, stumbling over her own feet and landing on her knees.

It wasn't the most painful thing she had done yet, but still she couldn't help but groan as the sharp pain shot through her leg. Greg was kneeling next to her, holding her by the shoulders as she trembled lightly.

"We can't keep doing this," he told her firmly, moving so that he was facing her. "Let me help you."

"I can do it on my own Greg," she rasped, closing her eyes with a heavy breath. At least that was what she wanted to think. After a moment she opened them again, finding Greg watching her attentively. With a sigh she pushed herself to her feet again, groaning as she slipped on the ground.

"Sara…this isn't going to work," he told her softly, his voice full of concern.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'll carry you," Greg suggested, moving to his feet. He stilled for a moment, taking a hold of her hands just above her wrists. Sara held fast, shaking her head.

"Greg…you abandoned the backpack because it was too heavy. How do propose carrying me?"

"I can do it," he responded firmly, kneeling back down. "But I'm going to need you to help."

"Greg, I…"

"No," he shook his head firmly. "Don't argue. Wrap your arms around my shoulders."

He had turned around so that he was facing away from her, patting to where he wanted her to hold on at. At first he wasn't sure she would listen, knowing exactly how stubborn she was, but he sighed in relief when he felt her respond. Taking in a breath he reached behind himself, hooking his arms under her knees and he lifted her up, moving to his feet.

"Hold on," he told her, adjusting his stance to bear both of their weight. It wasn't easy, his own body fatigued from the long toll of the events from the past days. He stood there for a moment longer, shifting his arms to balance her even more.

"Greg…" Sara's voice was strained, and he could hear her pause, as if trying to consider what she was going to say. But her shivering told him different; it wasn't so much as her not knowing what to say, but being unable to say it. He let out a heavy sigh, moving forward, holding her close as he trudged up the beaten path.

"Just hold on," his whispered, hoping against hope that he was finally going in the right direction. If they could just reach the road…any road at all, their chances of finding someone who could help them would greatly increase. It had been only a handful of minutes, no more than twenty, since Sara was last injured, and already the signs were showing through.

The snake bite, as he assumed it had been, was not just any ordinary bite, but poison was most likely a factor. Had to be, at his assumption. Of course he never disregarded the fact that it could have been a simple bite, factoring in everything else that had happened, the bite could have simply been too much for her to handle.

He could barely see in the fading light, but that only fueled him on further as he worked his way up, Sara's heavy breaths against the back of his neck as she protested quietly. Greg had hoped this time would have never come, but with each passing minute, it was becoming more of a reality.

* * *

Catherine sat off to one side, scooting over to make room for Nick as the man sat down. Scott stood just beside them, flipping through several pages as the door was closed, the detective coming into the room.

"We've been trying to reach you for a few days Robin," Scott stated quietly, watching the officer intently. "Where have you been?"

"Busy," Robin replied monotonously. "I was on leave, I wasn't violating any restrictions."

"Being on leave is one thing. Being unreachable?" Catherine wondered. "Whenever someone is given administrative leave, they're still required to maintain contact. Certainly when one is involved in a crime or other similar incident."

"I didn't commit any crime," Robin growled, sitting up in his chair. He flexed his bandaged arm, lifting it so everyone in the room could see. "That crazy lunatic shot me."

"You were shot," Nick nodded, "But by who is another story. Tell us again, what happened that night?"

The officer sighed, rolling his eyes. "I told you all once. I was doing my job when the guy pulled out the gun and started waving it around. When I tried to do the right thing he started shooting, then he proceeded to drag the lady into the woods, stating that if I tried to follow, he'd kill her. What was I supposed to do?"

The room was silent as everyone processed his story, until Scott stepped forward, laying several pictures on the table. "That's the photo of your wound, before" he slid the first picture forward, "And after."

Catherine watched as the officer shifted in his seat, wincing at the gory material. Then he seemed to regain his composure, shrugging his one good shoulder lightly. "It looks like a gunshot wound to me."

"That's right," Catherine said with a nod, leaning forward. "By the amount of damage done, the gunshot had to be close in range…most likely a contact wound. Exactly how could Greg wrestle the gun away from someone, hold them hostage, and shoot you, all within close proximity?

"Well…he didn't have the girl the entire time," Robin said quietly. The officer frowned, clearing his throat. "He hit her, knocked the sense out of her I think, then ran at me. He fired while I had my weapon down. Then while I was hurt he took her away…"

"Did we forget to leave that detail out when we asked you the first time?" Scott wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"A lot was going on, I can't remember everything," he exasperated, shaking his head. "I'm the victim here!"

"Who were you calling in Vegas?"

The question shocked him, and Robin turned to stare at the Detective, the same man that had remained quiet this entire time. "We have records that you were keeping connection with someone in Nevada."

"Wrong number mostly likely," Robin shrugged, frowning. "I don't know anyone down there."

"Thirteen different calls? All of five minutes ore more in length? Exactly what did you and the wrong number talk about for so many different times?"

"Robin…" Scott started with a sigh. After all the lead of the lab had felt he knew the young officer, and hated to even began to think that the man was involved with this. But evidence didn't lie…and nor could he. "We know about your financial problems. Someone has been depositing money in your account. Quite a sum…enough to suggest hired murder maybe?"

"I would never," Robin started, shaking his head. It was Nick who cut him off.

"Is that why you didn't finish it?" the Texan wondered. "Is that how they got away? And only then did you realize your mistake, and knew that somehow you'd have to cover it up?"

"You assumed that they would find their way out, and if that happened, you'd be screwed," Catherine filled in the blanks, watching the man's face change. "Is that where you were? Out to finish the job?"

"I didn't want any part of it," Robin hissed quietly. "I was having money problems, I still am. I didn't know what else to do, and one day this guy comes to me. Says he can hook me up with a tidy sum. All I needed to do was call this number."

"Who hired you?" Scott asked quietly.

Robin shook his head, utterly silent. "I never found out his name…he's an officer though…I can tell, he knew way too much to be just some random person. He was offering a large sum if I could dispose of a couple of CSI's from the LV Crime Lab. It sounded kind of odd to me, but I wasn't going to question it."

"Where are Greg and Sara?" Nick asked, his concern evident as he leaned forward. He feared the answer, they all did.

Robin shrugged, shaking his head once again. "I don't know. I never found them."

"You may have not killed them directly," Scott stated quietly, "But your actions led up to their death. To me that's still murder, and I will make sure you are tried for it. Premeditated."

The officer was silent, eyes closed as the detective beckoned him to his feet. Catherine could feel the same cold dread in her heart as she watched them walk him away. You found the slime bags, and the cold hearted among the force every so often, but it was rare. And to think they had someone back in Vegas on the same list was unnerving. She closed her eyes, taking in a long breath.

"Do you think?" Nick asked quietly, unable to finish his question.

"Without any bodies we won't know for certain," Catherine replied, moving to her feet. "I'm going to get a jacket."

"I'll get the car," Nick stated, following quickly behind her. They wouldn't have any problem catching up with the search team, and though it wasn't something they were looking forward to, it wasn't as if they had any other choice. The only thing missing from this case, were the bodies.

**TBC**


	16. The Rescue

**Managed to get this up after twenty six hours of not having power in sub freezing temperatures and over a foot of snow. I'm more than ready for this weather to be over. **

**This chapter is a bit longer, and perhaps one after this, might be two, I'll have to see how things work out. No telling when it will be though, with work, and real life, it's the holiday season after all, things kind of get busy around this time.**

**I know I'm horrible at responding to everyone who's reviewed, but I do consider and appreciate all of your responses, and I'm trying to get better at responding. **

**This chapter goes out to Jen who always keeps me motivated no matter what. This one's for you!**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: The Rescue **

At first it had been easy to ignore. The pain, the fatigue, the way his heart raced in his chest as he struggled with each and every breath. His legs shook with each step, and it was only by sheer will power that he was still going now. If he had the choice, Greg Sanders would have curled up into a ball long ago and simply cried himself to sleep, and mostly likely, to death. But in his mind, that wasn't an option.

Sara's breaths fell on the back of his neck, they came slowly, and sporadically even, and he alone could feel the heat radiating off her body and onto his. He wasn't sure if it was from an infection inflicted by venom, or simply because her body was giving up, too worn and far too strained from the events of the past several days.

She long ago stopped responding to his comments, which was a cause for worry, and at the same time a bit of relief. Unconsciousness was only one step, but at the very least it saved Greg his breath, giving him the ability to focus more on moving forward each and every step, no matter how slow, and though he could barely breathe at times it was a wonderful bliss to do just that.

He was walking blind, however. The sun long ago set behind them somewhere, leaving them in a trail of darkness as Greg stumbled, coming to a stop to regain his balance, one arm laced between Sara's to ensure that she stayed against his back, the other doing it's best to keep her legs wrapped around his waist. Greg knew little of the medical world; he was a CSI, not a coroner. There was a slight difference. He was gravely missing Robbins at this time, knowing the man would have been able to instruct him exactly on what to do. The man's work might be focused on the dead, but it still did not deter the fact that he had a medical degree.

He drew in a particularly sharp breath as he nearly tripped over an unseen rock, the cold air burning his lungs as he cursed quietly, gritting his teeth as he began to move again. Greg had a growing feeling of dread building up inside of him; somehow he knew that if he did not find help by morning at the latest, then Sara would be in fact, dead. He hoped for her sake, as well as his own, that by some miracle, someone would find them, be it Mckinely if it had to be. At least then their deaths wouldn't be painful, necessarily.

It was safe to say that he had been traveling like this for some hours now, and it was for more than one reason. In the distance the sound of baying, or at least he allowed himself to believe this is what he had heard. Whatever the case, Greg knew in the back of his mind, that any search teams would only be looking for bodies. Since bodies didn't answer back, they relied solely on dogs to do the work for them. It was a small chance, since the wilderness could very well contain wild dogs, but even if it wasn't from the search team, perhaps it was a house. And if there was a house, then there would be people.

He had used to love the wilderness, when he was younger, before coming to the Las Vegas Crime Lab, he and his father would go for hikes up in the mountains, sometimes being gone for weeks at a time, camping and living off the land. Back then they had been prepared. Emergency kits, flashlights, flares, food sources, water bottles and much more, that at that point in time, Greg had merely dismissed as being needless, assuming that he could take care of himself in any situation regardless of the circumstances.

Greg knew now how things actually worked, and though he knew there was little either of them could have done to prevent this situation, Greg was mentally kicking himself now for not trying harder. He couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing that if they had just brought along an extra water or food even, a custom that Sara was used to, that things would have been better off.

He also blamed himself for the wound Sara had received. Also unable to help but think that if they had chosen another path, or if he had even had let Sara go first, maybe they wouldn't have been in this desperate of a situation. In his mind, Sara was going to die.

So engrossed by this fear, and vision that was striking deep into his thoughts, Greg nearly missed the beam of light that passed above them. He caught it just as it disappeared, coming to a stop as he strained his ears. Listening closely he could hear what he assumed earlier on; dogs barking but not just that, the quiet murmur of voices just beyond the hill.

If he had the strength, Greg would have cried for joy, but instead he pushed himself up, moving up the hill that was just in front of him. They were further off to the side, Greg knowing this from just the direction the noise was coming from. The soil beneath him was giving way, the hillside having difficulties bearing both of their weight and took Greg several times to make it up the hill successfully.

It wasn't until he was closer to the top that the sporadic barks turned into more frantic ones, becoming more urgent as he came into their line of sight. Shortly afterwards he was blinded by several flashlights, and within seconds was surrounded. Hardly able to talk, and fighting to breathe Greg allowed the strange men to peel Sara away from him, watching dimly as they carried her near the road, laying her down gently. They were working quickly, checking her vitals and it took Greg a moment to realize that they were paramedics, the ambulance sitting just behind them in the darkness.

"Greg?"

They must have called his name several times, because he wasn't even aware someone was paying attention to him until they grabbed his shoulder, and even then it took him a minute to realize who it was. Catherine stood next to him, Nick a few paces off glancing nervously between him and Sara, both waiting for some sort of explanation.

"She's been hurt," Greg rasped, stating the obvious as he let out a heavy breath, bending over slightly as he muscles protested. He was watching her intently, hardly aware that the others were moving to sit him down until he was in fact doing just that. Catherine had moved into his line of vision, cutting him off from seeing what exactly was going on.

"Greg, talk to me, are you alright?"

He nodded briefly, swallowing painfully. "Tired…thirsty," he shrugged his shoulders, straining to see around her. Catherine hadn't let up, and instead moved to feel his forehead, frowning slightly.

"I'm going to see about getting you some water then," she told him quietly, instructing him then to stay sitting, to which Greg couldn't even begin to argue. If he never walked again in his life it wouldn't be too soon. He was grateful as she left, able to see Sara once more, his sole focus of attention, but disappointment coursed through him as Nick soon took her place, asking even more of the same questions. Greg knew it was procedure, but he hardly could care at this point in time.

"Mckinely….shot at us….ran away…he came after us," Greg did his best to rattle off all that had happened, knowing that they would want to know more in the end, but he could at least give them the basics to start off with. He closed his eyes as he finished, drawing in a few deep breaths as Nick encouraged him gently, moving out of the way as Catherine took his place.

Even with the fresh water pressed into his hand Greg hardly felt like drinking. Nausea threatened to spring up in his stomach as he sipped at the cool lifesaving liquid, but his thought were elsewhere. He could hear Catherine and Nick talking above him, doing their best to keep their voice low but Greg's hearing was just the same. Sara's condition wasn't good, and they were transporting her now. With having only one ambulance at the scene for just-in-cases, Greg's treatment would have to wait. Or at least that was what he assumed.

Catherine had pulled him back to his feet, despite his weak protests, guiding him to the back of the police car. They were going to take him now, choosing to not wait for another transport. Greg wouldn't complain. Sara was in good hands, and he was safe as well, this nightmare that had lasted for days was finally drawing to an end, and he could do little more than let out a contented sigh.

* * *

It was all happening too fast. Catherine and Nick had shown up with the search team just over an hour ago. They hadn't proceeded into the wood yet, moving only along side of it. They had used the excuse that it was too dark to search the woods, and it wouldn't be safe to do so until daylight. For Catherine that was entirely too long, but they were quick in reminding her that they were now searching for bodies, not the living.

They had hung back, talking quietly among each other as they followed slowly. Neither wanted to accept the fate, but it was clear that they could not avoid the inevitable forever. At the very least they would be found, and at least then proper respects could be made. She had tried to imagine what things would be like without them always around. It had fallen short drastically.

She and Sara had never set off on the right foot. Being nearly the only women in their line of work they constantly struggled with the male dominance that was expected. In a way it both made them foolhardy, and strong willed. It was the constant fight for control that left them in ruins, and unable to produce any real friendship. Even after all these years they could barely tolerate one another, but they did care for each other just the same, even if neither of them was willing to admit it.

Greg was still so young, even in comparison with field work, as well as in life. He was like a child, eager to please as well as learn. His greatest fault lie in wanting to please everyone, and any sane person knew that was an impossible goal to achieve. He was quick to learn, and he retained the knowledge well, but he also had a keen pair of eyes that had aided in many investigations since he first showed interest in the fieldwork.

No…there was no real way she could imagine work, or even life, without them. Just as these thoughts had occurred, the scent dogs had acted up. They had been barking all night, gaining a false lead to just loose it moments later. They were the only dogs that could be spared, and were still in training, chasing after every trail even if it wasn't the one they were searching for.

But this particular burst seemed more enthusiastic than before, several of the animals lunging towards the darkened forest, straining against their collars and leashes. Flashlights scanned the area and it was then she caught the first glimpse of him. At first it seemed as though it was just Greg, but with a second glance they could tell he was not alone.

Stumbling over their own feet, Catherine and Nick hadn't wasted any time in getting there. By the time they did get there though, the paramedics already had Sara on the ground, working on her quickly. Catherine could tell with one quick look that she wasn't well, her face was pale, and her chest barely moved as she breathed. She hadn't paid too much attention, moving then to Greg, who still stood in the open, untouched, unattended to.

She moved closer, afraid to touch him. He already looked so weak and pale now; she feared that touching him would simply break him somehow. But he wasn't responding to his name being called, his gaze focused solely on Sara. With slight frustration, Catherine grabbed his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

Greg looked dumbfounded, as though she had just slapped him, his eyes heavy with fatigue, but he turned quickly back to where Sara lay unresponsive as the medics continued to work on her. "She's been hurt," Greg muttered softly.

He was breathing heavier now, as though the situation was just weighing in on him, holding him down and she pressed on his shoulders, coaxing him to a sitting position. Greg hardly protested, and Catherine let out a small smile, one mostly of pity, but heartfelt as she realized there was a lot more the both had gone through than just simply getting lost. She rubbed his arm briefly, catching his attention once again. "Greg, talk to me, are you alright?"

The question itself was almost ironic. It was clear that he was quite the opposite, but she assumed most of it was fatigue, and stress. She doubted that either of them had slept, and more in likely they hadn't had any decent meal in over a week now. And it wasn't just the physical effects that were showing through, but instead his appearance was marred by those that were emotional as well.

"Tired…thirsty," he had breathed in answer, looking away from her own gaze.

Catherine could have kicked herself, realizing now that it had also had to have been a while since they last had anything to drink. It would very well explain why he was lethargic and sluggish.

"I'm going to see about getting you some water then," she had encouraged him, moving to run towards the parked patrol car. She knew they kept some water in there, even if it was half gone, it would be at least something. Grabbing it from the front of the car she made her way back to where Greg still sat, unmoving, eyes still staring in the direction they had taken Sara.

No sooner had she handed him the water that Nick was already pulling her away. He kept his voice low, obviously not wanting to alarm anyone but the worry was evident in his eyes. "Sara's not doing so well," he whispered.

"What do they think?"

Nick shook his head, glancing back towards her still form. It was obvious they were doing their best, their work becoming more frantic as they strapped her into a gurney, moving her towards the back of the ambulance.

"They're not sure yet, dehydration for certain, but the bite on her leg, they're thinking venomous, if not an infection. Unless we know what it was that got her for certain, there's no way of telling. I'm going to stay with her."

The other question was unanswered as she nodded, urging him to leave. They couldn't transport both with just one vehicle, but Sara's condition called for immediate response. Catherine waited a moment longer, watching Nick jog over to where they were getting ready to leave, jumping into the back of the vehicle easily.

Satisfied that Sara was in good hands Catherine turned her own attention back to Greg, who still sat quietly, seemingly unaware of all that was going around him. "Miguez."

The young officer turned to look at her questioningly, and Catherine nodded to where Greg sat, "We need to get him to a doctor."

The officer nodded, standing for a moment to watch to see if help was needed as Catherine grasped Greg's arm gently, helping him to a standing position. Greg tried to reassure her that he was fine, but gave in with little persistence. It was a sure sign that he wasn't quite himself, but she felt confident that he would be with some rest. There were no visible wounds or injuries that needed tending to, and she had little doubts that he would check out fine once they got him to a hospital.

Once she was certain he was in the car Catherine climbed in the front, instructing the officer on where to go. She watched Greg from the corner of her eye as he leaned his head against the window, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm glad we found you," Catherine told him softly, the earlier feelings of dread wearing off.

He barely nodded, commenting quietly that he agreed, but obviously too worn to really care at that point in time. She watched with a slight smile as his eyes drifted close, knowing that he was well beyond exhausted. Despite all of that she knew it was best to keep him awake, and after calling his name a few times she got the response she wanted, as his eyes drifted open once more. He gave her a blank stare, but shifted so that he was sitting up some.

It was clear that he was trying, and she let out a smile, turning back towards the front. They were almost twenty minutes from the hospital at this point, and even though the time was short it seemed to stretch, becoming unbearably long. She let out a sigh, beginning to talk once more, easing the silence as well as her own worries.

Greg more of listened than talked, responding with vague comments here and there, ensuring that he was indeed in touch with reality, even if he wasn't actually listening to what she had to say. Not that it mattered, Catherine was more or less rambling anyways, unsure of what to say, but wanting to talk none-the-less.

It was safe to say that she had noticed something was up. It was safe to say that she even knew that she had suspected it before. At the same time denial had taken its place, and Catherine had reassured herself that everything was going to be okay. But when she turned back around to check on him one last time, it was clear that it wasn't.

Greg was leaning against the window, eyes closed, unmoving. At first glance she had assumed that he was sleeping, but in her heart she knew that it wasn't. Cursing quietly under her breath she ordered the officer to pull over, shouting then when he questioned her motives. No sooner had he come to a stop that she was stepping out of the car, the night air blowing hair from her face.

Catherine took care in opening the door, catching Greg's slumping form as it fell towards the ground, its earlier brace now gone. Keeping a firm hold on him she scooted in the vehicle next to him, resting him against her chest as she reached up with one hand, fingers coming to a pause on his neck.

His pulse was there, as weak as it was, but even more unnerving was the way his breaths came, short and uneven, raspy almost. He was also cold, far to cold than anyone should be and she continued to curse herself even as she took her coat off, moving to drape it across his shoulders, pulling him closer to her own body as she shut the door.

"Hospital now," she snapped, not even taking her gaze off Greg's still form. He had gone into shock; there wasn't any question about it. He had to have been running off pure adrenaline, his own worry and fear for Sara's safety driving him on. If they had not found them then, Greg surely would have collapsed from sheer exhaustion, and died shortly after. Not that things would be any different here.

Catherine assumed that his knowledge that he had done all he could to get the both of them to safety, in combined with the fact of being overwhelmed with everything that had happened, and was still happening, Greg had simply given up. He no longer had the drive, his body was calming itself, and now, it was shutting down.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath for a brief moment before turning to the situation at hand. They should have been gunning it for the hospital long ago, but without the demanding urgency neither had even thought about it, and instead had driven along at a normal pace.

Now the lights were flashing, sirens blaring as they raced down the road, their arrival time much sooner than anticipated. Still it was agonizingly slow as Catherine wrapped her arms around him, shivering at the feel of his own cold body. It was alarming to see him like this, he seemed even younger than before, and more fragile than anything she had ever seen.

Saying a short prayer she closed her eyes, knowing that if they didn't get him in soon, then they would indeed lose him. And perhaps this time, for good.

**TBC**


	17. Truth and Lies

**Very long time since I've last updated, I do know that, and I apologize. Life is sometimes hard to keep up with, and even more so with the Holidays. Hopefully I can get back to writing back on track.**

**Leave reviews on your way out!**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Truth and Lies**

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as she paced back and forth, letting out a weary sigh as she finally sat down. It had only been an hour since they arrived, and Catherine had yet to learn anything new. Waiting was never an easy thing to do, and became even harder when it involved the ones you cared about. Part of Catherine knew she should call Grissom, and update him with what she knew, but in the end she knew little to nothing. Therefore she had little incentive to call, only to explain what she didn't know.

Wearily she rubbed her eyes, running her fingers through her hair as she let out a sigh. It wasn't exactly cold in the building, but even so Catherine was shivering slightly. When they arrived at the hospital, there had been little delay in getting Greg in, her own coat draped around his shoulders as they wheeled him in.

Twice Catherine had tried calling Nick, hoping to get a hold of the Texan with little success. She wasn't sure of Greg's state, but she knew in the back of her mind Sara had been worse. Yet she knew that the both were lucky to even be alive.

In the pit of her heart she never did expect to find them. Not alive at least, and even finding their bodies would have been a long shot in her perspective. With the amount of area they could possibly be lost in, and the given time span, it wouldn't take long for nature to finish what one man had started.

At the thought Catherine grew sick. She felt like crying, but she was one who never really gave into her emotions. In all her years she would never be able to understand how one person was able to come to the ultimate decision of who lived and died. Even more so when it concerned her friends.

Anyone who took the time to know the two wouldn't have come around to actually wanting them dead. Catherine knew that no one was perfect; everyone had their little problems, including Sara and Greg, but nor was it enough to condemn them to death. She swallowed painfully as she glanced up, grateful to see Nick coming down the hall.

She met him halfway there, neither of the two saying a word as they shared a quiet embrace. Nick held her there for a moment longer before pulling away, his own sorrow and regret in his eyes. Catherine shook her head quietly, unable to even think of what may have happened.

"No…" she shook her head fiercely, pleading with him to deny the single thought entering her mind. "Sara?"

"I don't know," he breathed quietly, moving to sit down. He still had a hold of her hand, and pulled her down next to him, his voice quiet and it was clear that he was just as tired as she was. "They flew her out to Portland; they have the closest Poison Control Center around here. They started her on antibiotics, and an IV, but unless they know what exactly bit her…there's not much else they can do. It all takes time."

Catherine nodded dully, sinking back into the chairs. It still didn't dismiss the possibility of what could happen. She could still feel Nick's questioning gaze on her, and slowly she shook her head. "They haven't told me anything."

"No news is potential good news," Nick suggested quietly, offering what little support he could.

She was going to agree, but found herself unable to as the doors to their left swung open, the doctor walking by them. Clearing her throat she addressed him, moving to her feet as Nick followed shortly after.

"Excuse me, we brought a young man in, a Mr. Sanders, is there anything you can tells us?"

Pausing he shifted through his files, and then proceeded to nod. "Yes, I am aware of that one. Dr. Pierson is finishing up with him, he'll be out in a few minutes and he can answer any further questions."

Dully she nodded, turning back to Nick with a weak smile as the man walked off. "That has to be some encouraging news, right?"

"Unless he doesn't like to be the bearer of bad news," Nick pointed out grimly, earning an irate look from Catherine as she sat back down.

"He didn't seem regretful," she pointed out, doing her best to stay positive about the entire situation.

"It's a hospital Cath," Nick reminded her, "they're used to this sort of stuff, just like we are."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing further as the doors opened again. This time she was on her feet before the doctor had time to walk by them. "Dr. Pierson?"

The man nodded, shaking both their hands shortly before moving off to the side with them. "He's exhausted, for the most part. Dehydrated, mal-nourished, some heat exhaustion."

"But he's going to be okay?" Catherine pressed, wanting to know the outcome. She was more than grateful to hear an affirmative to the question.

"We're going to keep him overnight, and most likely for a few days after, get his vitals back to normal, make sure there's nothing else that's going on. We'll check him out again, and if he's good we'll let him go."

Catherine nodded, at the same time letting out a silent breath with a prayer. They knew the fate of one, and even though Sara's outcome was still uncertain, she was feeling increasingly better.

"Can we see him?" Nick wondered, his voice still grim, but the earlier edginess that was there before had worn off. Disappointment soured through her as the man shook his head.

"Mr. Sanders can really do with his rest at this moment. You can come back tomorrow; he should be more up to visits then."

Bitter at the response Catherine chewed her lip, unsure of what exactly she would be doing until the next day came around. The case at the moment was at a standstill, the only thing left to do was take statements from both Greg and Sara, providing Sara lived long enough to even do so. There was that, of course, and finding the identity of the unknown hirer pertaining to their attempted murder.

"Mr. Sanders is part of a criminal investigation," Nick pointed out, "We really need to take his statement, and the sooner the better. Just think about it, every minute that goes by a killer could be getting away."

The man frowned, crossing his arms as he glanced from one to the other. It was clear he wasn't one to negotiate, but neither could he interfere with such a request. Grumbling slightly he nodded, pointing towards the double doors that led towards the ER.

"We have in ICU at the moment. By the end of the night he should be back in a regular room. Two doors down and on the right. Fifteen minutes, and I'll be back to check in. I want the both of you gone."

"Cheerful, isn't he?" Catherine wondered, watching as he walked away. She turned to glance up at Nick, giving him a sad smile. "Shall we?"

"It amazes me," Nick commented, pushing through the doors with Catherine by his side. "He's well enough to cause no concerns but they won't move him from ICU."

"Let the doctors do their job, focus on our own," Catherine reminded him, her hand resting on the door as she made her way in.

He was resting easily on his back, head propped by several pillows as slept. His face was still pale, and his eyes barely opened as they approached the bed. Nick took a seat near the foot of the bed, but Catherine chose to remain standing, reaching out to grasp his hand lightly.

"You hanging in there okay?"

Greg gave her a short smile, his eyes closing as he shifted slightly. "Sara?"

Catherine glanced at Nick was sullen expression, struggling with herself to find an appropriate answer. It was no surprise that he was asking after her, concerning his last real perception of what had happened. And even though he was written off as being okay, the last thing Catherine wanted to do was add additional stress, and it wasn't like she could lie to him either.

"She's going to be just fine," Nick spoke up from behind her, causing Catherine to turn sharply. "You can see her once you get some rest."

He seemed satisfied with the answer, but Catherine could tell, Greg's response was only his silent breaths, a sure indication that he was once more asleep. Frowning she motioned for Nick to follow as she stepped out in the hallway.

"What gives you the right to lie?"

She had barely waited until the door had closed behind them, the anger in her voice evident. Catherine knew that in this case, the exact truth wouldn't have been the best, but what Nick had supported was an outright lie.

"He's not going to know the difference," Nick stated, leaning against the nearby wall.

"So what are you going to tell him if she doesn't make it?"

"I like to think that she will. And if, by some chance she doesn't, then we'll deal with it then. But take a look, you can see as well as I can. He's not even coherent. By the time morning comes around, he's not going to remember even talking to us."

"I hope you're right then," Catherine told him coldly. "For your sake as much as Greg's."

**TBC**


	18. Secrets

**Chapter Eighteen: Secrets**

The investigation, at the present moment, was at a standstill. Mckinely didn't have any other information, and if he did, he simply wasn't giving. The cell phone had also come to a dead end, the number deactivated, and the owner unidentifiable. Nick knew the others were still working on it back in Vegas, but it hardly eased his mind.

He had been attacked more than once…he knew feeling of dread, of terror. But at least he knew who, and he also knew why. That alone was some counsel, and perhaps even closure. He had been stalked, framed for murder, and kidnapped. It was safe to say he had used up all his lifelines.

But what about Greg, and Sara, of course? He knew the ex-lab rat better than he did Sara. He and Greg got along naturally, even from the first time they had met. Nick found humor in his odd acts, and his self proclamation around the lab, not only by his attitude but also by his wardrobe, and his procedure.

Sara he knew quite well, but only on a professional matter. He had never been to her house, or gone out drinking with her. He never traveled to seminars or classes, and the never ate out. They had breaks, of course, but those didn't really count. Sara was just as much as a mystery to him as Greg was his friend.

He pushed his sunglasses up as he entered the building, making his way to the elevator. Normally he would use the stairs, but today he didn't quite feel up to the challenge of climbing four flights. He hadn't heard yet on Sara's condition, and no one from the hospital had called to update on Greg. This was why he was here, but it wasn't the only reason.

Greg had given them a brief statement the previous night, but it wasn't enough. Maybe Mckinely had slipped somewhere, had let something out, or maybe Greg knew something that would bring an end to this case. Even if he didn't, a full statement was still required. The person wanting them dead may get away, but at the very least they could pin Mckinely on it. It would get the message out that murder for hire wasn't a 'get-rich-quick' scheme, and that it came with a high penalty.

Nick flagged down a passing nurse, frowning as she hustled by without so much as looking up. Trying to get some help here was worse than it had been back at the crime lab. The Texan wondered if this happened to be the current theme of the area, or if he had just happened to come at a bad time.

His second attempt was more successful than the first, despite the fact she hadn't ever heard of a man by the name of Greg Sanders and she hardly knew how to speak in English. He ran a hand through his hair, pursing his lips as he headed down the hall. Greg should still be in the same room as the night before, but there had been talk of moving him. Aside from that, he would have liked a full update before going in there.

The door itself was hanging open slightly, and even still Nick knocked as he entered, pushing it open hesitantly. The smile that was once on his face disappeared now as he came to a stop, watching the man dress slowly.

Greg barely glanced up at him, turning away as he pulled the shirt over his head carefully, as though each move pained him greatly. In the silence Nick could hear his heavy breaths and the Texan tried to get his bearings straight, wanting to scold the man for moving too much too soon.

"What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you," Nick responded, finding his voice only then. "Exactly what are you doing?"

"Leaving," Greg answered, trying to smooth his hair down. "I'm going to see Sara."

"Sara?" Nick blinked, trying to process all that had just been said. "Leaving? Wait…you can't leave."

"Yeah?" Greg looked at him, the anger evident in his eyes. "Who's going to stop me?"

"The doctors approved you for release?"

Greg shook his head, coughing as he rested his weight on his knees. His eyes were halfway closed and Nick knew the man wasn't in any shape for walking, let alone traveling. "I don't need anyone's approval."

"Greg…"

"No," he cut the Texan off quickly, shaking his head. "No. I'm not in the mood to listen to more of your lies. I'm tired of being lied to."

"I was wrong," Nick admitted, hating both himself and Catherine at the same time. He knew she had been right, but he hadn't wanted to believe it, keeping to his own hopes in order to keep everything at bay. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Worry?" Greg wondered, staring at him. "I wake up this morning asking about her and no one in this entire damn hospital knows she even exists. They keep telling me she never came in. I thought she was dead."

"How did you find out?"

"What?" Greg huffed angrily, "That she wasn't? Catherine. Pretty shameful that I have to call outside sources to figure things out. You're my friend Nick, I trusted you."

"We didn't know anything at the time Greg…I didn't know what else to say."

"You say that you didn't know," the man pointed out angrily. "I wouldn't have been mad at you; I knew Sara wasn't in that great of shape."

Nick shrugged, holding his hands out to the side. "I'm sorry, alright? I was only doing what I felt was best. I know we haven't exactly started off on the right foot, but listen too me. You're not ready to leave."

Greg nodded, to the Texan's surprise. "I know that."

"You do?" Nick raised an eyebrow.

"I still need my shoes, there's no way in hell I'm going to Portland barefoot."

"That's not what I was saying and you know it," Nick ground out angrily. "You almost died last night. You're severely dehydrated and mal-nourished, not to mention weak. You're barely able to sit up."

"I'm fine," Greg answered crisply, holding his head in hands at the same time.

"Fine?" Nick wondered out loud.

"Maybe not great, but I'm still going. I've already made that decision, and with all due respect, I'm not minor. I don't need your approval to do anything."

"Catherine and I are going up there tomorrow, stay here, get another day of rest, and then you can ride with us. It'll be a lot more comfortable and cheaper than renting a cab."

"Who said anything about taking a cab?"

Nick ground his teeth, growing more agitated by the minute. Greg wasn't thinking along reasonable lines, not in the least bit. He knew the man was angry, and perhaps this sudden rebellious streak was due to pay him back for the lie he spread earlier. Still, this wasn't the way to handle it all. "Greg…you're in no shape to drive. You'll kill yourself trying to get there, not to mention everyone else you're putting in danger. Do you really want to kill someone with your own selfishness?"

He could see that this got to him here, watching as the young man shifted with a heavy sigh. Greg may not have cared much about his health, but he wouldn't willingly risk the health of an innocent bystander. The level one CSI rubbed his head gently, as if trying to think, before letting out a long sigh.

"Fine…you win. I'll stay another day, but I'm not going to enjoy it."

"You'll follow the doctor's orders?" Nick wondered, watching as Greg edged himself back into the bed.

"Whatever," was his crisp reply and Nick let out a sigh, moving for the first time near the bed. He pulled the chair close, sitting quietly almost admiring the silence as Greg continued to breathe deep and heavy, as if struggling to breathe.

"I'm not trying to punish you," the Texan started finally, hoping to repair some of the trust that had been between them. If Greg wasn't so worried, he would have realized the logic behind the Texan's motives. But he also knew how spiteful Greg could be, and knew that this battle would be long in winning.

He said nothing in return and Nick rubbed his forehead, trying to find a way to ask the questions. He still needed a statement, thrown off from earlier by the sudden change. But he was saved from the awkward situation at the next asked question.

"Did you find who did it?"

"Other than Mckinely…no."

"He wouldn't cop to it," Greg huffed, letting out a yawn as he closed his eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

Nick smiled lightly, knowing that this was the first step of many to getting back on track. He cleared his throat, nodding even though Greg couldn't even see. "The beginning would be good."

* * *

She resembled and angel. When he was young it had always been his duty to put the angel on the top of the tree for Christmas, and this was how he saw her now. Her face was pale, almost like porcelain, and with her eyes closed, her head resting on the pillow turned towards the wall, she was an angel of beauty, resting peacefully.

She was beautiful, and at the same time frightening. The doctors had assured him she would be okay given a few days, and a week or two of rest.

Greg reached out with a shaky hand, letting his fingers move over her hair, coming to rest on her cool forehead. If she only had more color in her cheeks, she wouldn't look so bad.

The bite hadn't been venomous…just a small simple bite that had thrown her body over the edge. As weak as she had been, it would have only taken something as small as that, to produce life threatening results. Even though the costs of the transportation, and added care, would skyrocket, it all and all had been a smart move. The doctor stressed the fact that one could never be too careful when dealing with poisons.

Greg sat down on the edge of her bed, hand still lingering in her hair. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her, to hear her voice, but he knew she wouldn't be waking up for some time yet. The doctor had given her a sedative to calm her, and help her gain the much needed sleep she was lacking.

He had wanted more than to see her since first waking with rational thoughts in the hospital. He had wanted to be here much earlier than this, but Nick had helped delayed that. He knew the Texan was right; he just didn't want to agree with him. The last day there had been pure misery, to anxious to sleep, too worried to eat he spent most of his time staring off into emptiness. It wasn't until that morning Nick had finally okayed him to leave.

Even still, Catherine and Nick hardly took their eyes off of him. Greg knew he wasn't one hundred percent yet, and that he would be lucky to be at even fifty, but he didn't want to worry the others. Still he had a keen feeling that they knew just how poorly he was doing. They insisted on making several stops along the way, even if it was only a few hours drive to begin with. One of the stops had lasted a full hour and half, as both Catherine and Nick forced him to eat. He knew the doctors had talked to them about his weight, or rather, the lack of it.

Needless to say he was busting at the seams when they finally arrived. Yet when they got to her door, Greg was struck by a sudden surge of fear. He was afraid to see what was on the other side.

They were only allowed in one at a time. Catherine had gone first, followed then by Nick even though he had offered to let Greg go in ahead. The man turned the offer down, pacing the halls as he tried to calm himself. It had taken a lot of nerve to finally go in and see her, but in the end Greg was glad.

Leaning over he placed a kiss on the side of her face, stroking her hair as he rested his head on top of hers. "You have no idea how glad I am you're okay," he whispered in her ear, closing his eyes. "I love you, Sara Sidle."

He waited, almost holding his breath but there wasn't any response. Then again why did he expect one? She wasn't even conscious at the time, and wouldn't be for hours yet. He pulled back, biting his bottom lip as he tried to keep his composure. He wanted nothing more than to kick himself; after all this time he had with her, why now? Why did he have to act like an idiot and confess his deepest darkest secrets, when she wasn't even listening? Greg highly doubted that after her near-death experience Sara would want to date, especially someone like him.

No…there had been Hank, and he knew Sara had secretly sworn off guys…most guy's that was. He knew she still had an eye for their boss, and if anything she would turn to Grissom for the support she needed. After all, Sara had little choice in confiding in Greg over the past days.

He swore to himself quietly, wiping away the tears that were beginning to fall. Why did he have to be so emotional? Sara was going to be fine; he was going to be fine. In a week they'd be back to normal, in a month, it would be like none of this had ever happened.

He ran his hand through her hair one last time as the knock on the door signaled it was time to go. Visiting hours were over, and they would be back in the morning. Greg would be, at least. He didn't care that the others were headed back to Vegas the next night; he was willing to find a way to stay with Sara until she was well enough to head back as well. Surely no one could oppose to that, could they?

**TBC**


	19. Not the Way

**Chapter Nineteen: Not the Way **

It was earlier than he had wanted it to be, but Nick knew the earlier they set off, the sooner they would make it back to Vegas. Since the urgency of the situation had left, no one was paying for their flight back, leaving them with the only option of driving. It was an option he wasn't looking forward too.

Sara was still in the hospital, with hopes of being released soon. Nick had been unable to visit with her again, not since the first time he had seen her. The hospital was very keen on sticking to visiting hours, and no one had been allowed back in, and wouldn't until later on that day. They had already talked about transferring her to Vegas, where she would be much closer to home, but the cost to do so wasn't approved, seeing she would be out just as soon.

He let out a sigh, closing the small suitcase he had brought before pulling on his jacket, careful not to wake the other occupant of the room. When he was certain he had everything, he left the room, the door closing behind him quietly.

Catherine was already waiting for him in the hallway, her own suitcase packed and ready to go. She raised an eyebrow as he came out alone, nodding towards the door. "I don't want to hear a single word on how long it takes women to get ready. I've been waiting for almost twenty minutes now."

"I'm sorry," Nick apologized as he came up to her. "I didn't want to wake Greg up."

"Greg can sleep in the car," she reminded him with a frown. "I'd like to get going sometime today."

"Greg's not coming."

He could see her flinch, and he watched her as she shook her head, knowing what she was thinking, and he was prepared. After all, he hadn't been to happy with the idea the night before, but Greg had talked, rather pleaded, with him until the Texan had given in.

"He wants to make Sara's okay, and I don't blame him," he pointed out for starters. "They're going to keep Sara for at least another day, and then she's going to have to drive back to Vegas as well. I'd rather have someone with her."

"Greg's not in the best shape to be left alone," Catherine pointed, remembering well what the hospital had told her. She could see Nick's reasoning, but it was best to keep in mind what was best for everyone.

"He ate again last night, and went to bed early," Nick pointed out. "Plus he's still sleeping now. I'll be the first to admit, he's not one hundred percent yet, but he's making an effort. And between him and Sara…them being together, I'll feel much safer than Sara trying to make it back on her own."

Catherine let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "Have you talked to Grissom about this yet?"

Nick shook his head, embarrassed to admit he hadn't gone over that small detail yet. It was a flaw, he knew, but he could see that Catherine was giving in. She grabbed her bag, nodding towards him as they headed down the hall. "Fine by me," she stated, "But you're the one calling Grissom."

* * *

The door closed behind him with a click and he paused for a moment, studying the other occupant of the room. The officer barely looked at him, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl set deeply on his face. It wasn't the first time they had him in here, and Grissom had a strong feeling it would be the last.

"You better have a damn good reason for bringing me in here," he stated angrily as Grissom sat down across from him.

"We had a friend do a little search for us," he started, taking his glasses off to eye the man. "On officers that have purchased disposable cell phones recently. You were one of them."

"There's no law saying I can't," Fromansky huffed, "Sometimes I need my own personal line."

"Do you happen to have it?" Grissom wondered. He wasn't surprised to see the officer shake his head. "Funny, isn't it?"

"I haven't done anything illegal," Fromansky pointed out, moving to stand. "So I'll be going."

"Hiring for murder is illegal," Grissom commented, smiling almost as the officer turned, one hand resting on the door knob. "We need to know what you did with your phone."

"I didn't need it anymore," the officer replied quietly, still standing where he was. "Hence the fact it's a disposable phone, I'm not exactly required to keep it."

"We've traced calls from Oregon back to here, to an Officer owning a disposable cell phone. So far there's only three. We've already talked to the other two, both still have theirs. And they've been cleared."

"You have nothing against me," Fromansky replied, still not moving. "If you did, this would be an arrest."

"You're free to go," Grissom stated coldly, his gaze still on him. "But don't go far. I'm sure we'll be meeting again."

The man wasted no time in departing, leaving Grissom sitting there rubbing his head. He didn't need to look up as the door opened again, knowing already that it was Warrick who sat down next to him.

"What do you think?"

Grissom let out a sigh, "He's right. We have no connection without the phone."

"We could get a warrant. Search his locker, his car, his house," Warrick suggested, but Grissom was quick to cut him off.

"Lead's not strong enough. For all we know it could be someone who used to be a cop, or even someone who has experience with them. There's no telling if Mckinely is telling the truth, or if he's using that as a cover up to keep himself from getting into trouble."

"So…" Warrick frowned, clearing his throat. "That's it?"

Grissom nodded solemnly. "Sometimes that's all you can do."

* * *

Sara smiled tentatively as he walked in, grateful for any company other than the hospital staff. It wasn't just that either; she had worried about his condition. No one was able to give her a clear response to where he was, or what had happened. To be truthful, she was still fuzzy on the details of what had happened, and how exactly she ended clear up in Portland.

"You look like shit Greg," she stated flatly, scooting up in her bed in order to allow herself to give him a hug. She breathed a sweet breath of relief at the feel of him in her arms, and suddenly found herself crying as she held him close.

"What's wrong?"

He hadn't pulled away, but she knew he could her silent sobs. Sara hastily shook her head, reaching up with a hand to wipe away the fallen tears. "Nothing," she stuttered hastily, cursing under her breath as she continued to cry. She was stronger than this, she could handle it…then why couldn't she stop?

Greg had finally pulled away, leaving Sara to her own defenses as she dropped her head into her hands, drawing in one ragged breath after another. She flinched, startled as she felt his hands on her face, one hand under her chin to tilt her gaze up. With the other he wiped away the wet streaks, watching her closely.

"Do you need a doctor?" he asked quickly, the worry evident in his voice. Sara shook her head, angry at having made him worry. "It just seems so unreal," she whispered.

Greg smiled in understanding as he sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand slipping around her own and giving it a small squeeze. "We made it," he whispered. "We're going to be okay."

Sara nodded, she knew this much, of course. She suddenly found the same ache in her heart she had felt before, the knowledge that they were just friends, and nothing more. She knew with all that had happened, they were certainly closer, but that was only for now. What would happen later on when they got back to Vegas? When they went back to their same places? Would life just simply continue on as though nothing had even happened?

"The doctors say by this afternoon," Greg started, nodding as Sara understood what he was talking about. "Grissom has a car already rented for us; it's at a nearby car lot. He wants us to take it easy coming home."

"Figures," she whispered sarcastically. "One mistake and he never trusts us again. I'm afraid we won't be going on extended assignments anytime soon."

"Good," Greg laughed, a grin breaking across his face. "I could do with the easy cases for a while. My head hurts just trying to think about this one."

Sara smiled uneasily as he laughed, knowing that he meant no harm, but she was hopeful he would be bitter about it. Even though this trip here had been little more than downright miserable, Sara had enjoyed being with him. There wasn't anyone else she would have chosen.

Greg squeezed her hand, bringing her from her thoughts. He was watching her closely, and so she presented a false smile, even if was for his comfort, and not hers. "I'll be back later on to get you. Once the doctors give you the okay to leave, I mean."

Sara nodded, half heartedly, watching as he left. Out of all the chances she had to say something, she was upset with herself for not even trying. But in the back of her mind she knew this wasn't reasonable. She was in a hospital bed, and Greg looked like he should be in one as well. If she wanted to know the truth about his feelings, she needed to wait, and not insert pity into the situation. Yet that wasn't all; Sara wasn't sure she could handle the blow of rejection right now either.

She let out a short breath, leaning back into the pillows as she stared up at the ceiling, unable to help but wonder when life became so complicated. Life was just a game, and how it turned out depended on how you played it. And for Sara, she felt as though she was not only on her last life, but down by a hundred points as well. For her…there was a long way to go yet.

**The End**

* * *

**Ah yes, the end of another. I do have a sequel in planning that will explore Greg and Sara's 'relationship', but no ideas to when it will be posted. This story was sort of stop and go for the most part, I appreciate everyone that stuck in there with me. I love reviews, so make sure to comment!**


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